


Alternatively Yours

by Devi_the_Wynter_Wytch



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Slow Build, Slow Burn, not necessarily in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 68
Words: 97,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devi_the_Wynter_Wytch/pseuds/Devi_the_Wynter_Wytch
Summary: Rather than let Sarah win during their final confrontation, Jareth re-orders time and instigates a far different outcome. The consequences of his actions have far reaching implications Sarah could never have anticipated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ***Warning: This story contains a SLIGHTLY underage Sarah. Not usually what I write, but it’s crucial to the story, and the plot only works if this begins almost precisely where the movie ends. Therefore, I have taken as much leeway as I could manage, given the parameters of the movie, and made Sarah as close to the legal age of consent as possible; in my jurisdiction that’s sixteen. Also, there are brief references to rape/non-consensual sex not involving a main character. There are semi-graphic references to child abuse and the death of a child not involving a main character. These are used solely to further the plot and are done as tastefully as I can manage. As the title suggests, this is an alternative ending/continuation of the story. 
> 
> Rated E (just to be safe) for semi-graphic scenes of consensual sexual activity
> 
> Pairing: Jareth/Sarah
> 
> Status: Complete 
> 
> Length: Novella size. Word Count 97,751  
> This story is taking an unholy amount of time to cut, paste and upload from my old laptop. I'll try to get 5 chapters uploaded every 3 or 4 days...promise. Some chapters are very short, so I hope 5 at a time will make up for that.
> 
> Please note that this is my first foray into Labyrinth fan fiction. Reviews and any encouragement you care to offer are very much appreciated. I do not own Labyrinth in any form or fashion. I write fan fiction strictly for entertainment purposes and reap no financial rewards for doing so.
> 
> Special thanks to my totally awesome beta reader, Jessica, for her outstanding suggestions, comments, and for holding my hand through this.

Chapter 1

Sarah pressed forward, forcing the ivory and feather clad Goblin King to back step as she advanced through the Escher room. In its disjointed and floating state it defied even more laws of physics than it had previously. “Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered…I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City. For my will is as strong as yours…and my king…”

“Stop,” the Goblin King interrupted. “Wait. Look, Sarah. Look what I’m offering you. Your dreams.” He held forth the champagne colored crystal and for a moment Sarah’s eyes drifted towards it, but she was not to be deterred so easily. She had already rejected her dreams for Toby’s sake and she would do so as many times as necessary to secure his safe return.

“And my kingdom as great.” Sarah resumed, stumbling, trying desperately to remember her right words from the novel. Time was nearly up as somewhere a clock began slowly chiming its inexorable way to thirteen.

“I ask for so little. Just let me rule you…and you can have everything that you want.” A hint of desperation crept into Jareth’s voice, and he mentally berated himself for revealing any weakness to her, however slight it may be.

“Kingdom as great…Damn. I can never remember that line,” Sarah cursed and turned away slightly to concentrate, needing to look away from the strangely pale and alluring beauty of the Goblin King.

“Just fear me, love me, do as I say…and I will be your slave,” he entreated. Something about those words struck a chord deep in her memory, but she had stopped listening in order to search her memory.

“My kingdom as great…My kingdom as great…” And then in a rush the right words came as she finally faced him fully, “You have no power over me!”

And in that moment, the decision was made. He wanted her. She was the one, the right one…to rule at his side forever as the Goblin Queen.

Jareth sighed. This same scene had played out now three separate times. He had re-ordered time after each declaration that he had no power over her in an attempt to alter an outcome that seemed inevitable. The stubborn girl simply wasn’t listening, wasn’t comprehending the totality of what it was he offered. The energy expenditure of re-ordering time was draining him; in conjunction with the energy he had already expended in fulfilling all of Sarah’s expectations, this was his last chance. He simply wouldn’t have the energy reserves to do it again. He must stop her declaration, find a way to break her concentration, to make her want his offer--to want him. Once more, then, they would play this game out.

“You have no pow…”. With a quickness rivaling his owl form on the hunt, Jareth strode forward, pressed his lips to Sarah’s, and kissed her. She gasped, clearly not expecting this; this was not the way things go in the novel. In a flash of inspiration, Jareth realized that the closest he had come previously to diverting Sarah had been in the ballroom, when her barriers had lifted for a time and she had craved the physical intimacy of their dance. He would use that knowledge now; now when they floated on a slab of stone in what once had been the Escher room; now when she had nowhere to run from her desires.

At Sarah’s gasp, Jareth deepened the kiss, capturing fully her plump lower lip and sucking it lightly, breaking slightly to stroke his tongue gently against her own as he held her firmly against his body, one hand tangled in the long hair at the nape of her neck, the other pressed firmly, fingers splayed, across her lower back and hip.

Sarah trembled. Her body and mind at war. “Oh God, help me,” her mind cried out silently. Jareth’s mouth slanted against hers again and again, weakening her resolve and creating a low, building heat that seemed to pool in her abdomen and spread a languorous, drugging warmth through her veins. She wanted this…..She had to stop this. The clock was still chiming. Moving to take a step back she discovered that she could not. Surprised she realized that she had wound her arms around the Goblin King’s shoulders and her hands were twined in his silky, silvery hair. Shuddering, she slid her hands to his shoulders and shakily, weakly, pushed him away while she struggled to speak and was shocked to hear her own voice come out in a breathy moan. “Toby…I have to..to…save…Toby.”. In response Jareth slid his mouth to her ear, softly kissing and nuzzling along her jaw as he did so.

“But Sarah, you already have,” he whispered, making her shiver as his hot breath fanned along her sensitive ear.

“No,” Sarah whispered, “I have to…defeat..you…have to win back Toby.” Her hands now gripped Jareth’s shoulders tightly, torn between pushing him away or pulling him closer, her nails digging into the soft material of his cream colored shirt. Briefly her mind wondered where his owl feather cloak had gone, but she pushed away all thoughts except for Toby; she had to remain focused.

“But I told you, Precious, you’ve already won.” Releasing her waist but retaining the gentle hold in her tangled hair, he took a quarter step back and conjured a small crystal which spun in lazy circles upon the fingertips of his gloved right hand. “See for yourself.” He extended the crystal toward her at eye level, and Sarah saw Toby, asleep in his crib in her parents’ bedroom.

Sarah turned her confused eyes up to stare into Jareth’s amused, mismatched eyes. “But, how…?”

“I told you Sarah; you won. If you recall, word for word, I challenged you to solve the labyrinth within thirteen hours, although, to be completely forthcoming, I did take three of those hours back. Once you emerged from the labyrinth you had fulfilled the challenge. You never had to enter the castle, leap off a stone ledge, confront me, or anything else. You took it for granted that you had to follow the book exactly, and so you did, regardless of what I told you when you began your quest.”

He cocked a mocking eyebrow at her as Sarah replayed the events in her mind, realizing belatedly that he was right. All he had really challenged her to do was solve the labyrinth.

“You’re one of the Fae, aren’t you, one of the fair folk?” Sarah stammered. Jareth nodded slightly. “That means you can’t lie, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. I can evade, omit otherwise relevant information, or obfuscate, but I cannot lie. So, use your right words and craft your questions accordingly, Sarah.” Jareth smirked, and the challenge was clear in his eyes.

“Is Toby really safe at home in my parents’ bedroom, right now?”

“Yes.”

“Is Toby safe from you and all of the creatures you control for the rest of his life…no retribution…no snatching him away again?”

“Yes.”

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief but her lungs seized in the next moment.

“Unless,” and the Goblin King smirked cruelly, “his rightful caretaker wishes him away. Then, I am bound by Fae law and my role as Goblin King to take him.”

“Is there no way to keep him safe regardless?”

Jareth shook his head. “No, the best I can do is give you my word that neither I nor any of my subjects will do anything to instigate events that could lead to him being re-taken.”

“Swear it, then.” Sarah insisted.

Jareth smiled, pleased that she had noticed the difference; he had stated what he could do but had made no actual promises. “I swear.” he replied solemnly and the crystal he was holding flared slightly and twinkled out of existence.

Sarah nodded slowly and was surprised as she felt a gentle tug on her hair. She looked up just as Jareth’s lips descended to hers once again. It was as if there had been no interlude--heat flared between them once more and Sarah found herself once again pressed full length against the lean, muscular body of the Goblin King.

“Wait,” Sarah rasped.

Jareth nibbled lightly along her jaw once more to whisper, “Now what, Precious?” into her ear. The erotic tickle of his breath made her breathing unsteady as a fine tingle of gooseflesh erupted along her skin.

“If I already…won,” Sarah’s raspy breathing was not helping her stammering problem, she noted faintly, “then what’s this? You don’t need to distract me now.”

She felt the curve of Jareth’s lips as he smiled against the tender flesh of her neck. “Let’s call this a secondary transaction,” he purred.

“No,” Sarah recoiled, pushing him away. “All that fear me, obey me stuff…no….just no. I won’t do it.”

“Such a pity,” Jareth replied sardonically. “It would have been so much easier on both of us if you had,” Jareth whispered as he leaned in to kiss her once again.

“What is this, Goblin King? What do you want?” Sarah said before he could.

Jareth stopped, a scant few millimeters from her lips. “Why, Sarah, don’t you know?” He grinned wickedly as he tightened his hold on her hair and skimmed his right hand upwards, trailing lazily up from her hip, slipping under the hem of her loose blouse to tickle along the sensitive skin of her abdomen to come to rest tracing small circles underneath her brassiere. “I want you, Sarah.” Sarah shivered again and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could do so, Jareth kissed her again. No, Sarah thought dimly, not a kiss at all; he was trying to consume her.

Sarah burned. There was no other word for it. Her skin was on fire. The warm pool of heat in her abdomen exploded into hot lava, searing her from the inside out. She dimly heard a distant whimpering moan, and her pleasure numbed brain vaguely recognized it as her own voice. At not quite sixteen, Sarah knew the mechanics of sex, theoretically. She was completely unprepared for the reality. The reality of it overwhelmed her.

She had gotten the basics when she was thirteen from Health class, a brief if somewhat uncomfortable talk with her stepmother, Karen, and innuendo from various TV shows and movies. Sex wasn’t something she thought about very often; it was scary and intriguing and not likely to happen to her for a long time. At school, she had a reputation for having her head in the clouds, living in a childish fantasy world she had never outgrown; aloof and friendless, many of the other kids called her “weird” and just plain avoided her. What Karen didn’t understand, and Sarah didn’t have the guts to admit to her stepmother, was that she didn’t have dates because no one had ever asked her out. And, no one in high school was probably ever going to. She had been labeled “strange” and “undateable,” and that was that.

Desire hammered at her senses along with the knowledge that no one else really wanted her, not the guys she knew, not her father and stepmother who were currently discussing sending her to boarding school, and certainly not her beautiful mother who had walked out on her husband and child to pursue her acting career. Her teenage hormones had brought these thoughts to her mind in sharp relief repeatedly of late as she adjusted to the depression, rebellion, and general angst that accompany the transition from girl to woman. Now, the most ethereally beautiful, dangerously alluring being she had ever seen wanted her. Part of her knew it was just for sex, that he didn’t really want her in the sense that she longed for, but it was more than what she had, and she craved it. Fear, desire, physical need, rejection, curiosity, and confusion swirled in a convoluted, twisted mass through Sarah’s thoughts. This was so wrong. And yet something, some intangible, unnamed something whispered that this was so very right.

Sarah squeezed the taut muscle joining the Goblin King’s neck and shoulder hard enough to get his attention. He removed his lips from the side of her neck where he had been nibbling the deliciously sensitive skin to gaze at her with a dark, hooded gaze.

“No consequences,” Sarah managed to gasp out.

“What do you mean?” inquired the Goblin King shrewdly.

“No pregnancy…no disease.” Sarah clarified. “And you’ll take me home, to stay, when I want to go.”

“Agreed.”

Sarah looked into his eyes and nodded. She reached for his neck, pulled his head down, initiated a slightly clumsy kiss and surrendered.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sarah stretched languorously and came awake very slowly, the darkness of her bedroom impeding her normal morning routine. As she became more fully conscious, she realized that she was neither in her own bed nor in her own bedroom. Sarah sat up slowly, leaning against the headboard of a truly massive bed--the Goblin King’s bed, she realized belatedly. So it was real! She blushed a deep crimson at the thought of what she had done last night. A quick glance around the room revealed her to be entirely alone. Grateful for the privacy, she closed her eyes and allowed the rush of memories to play through her mind.

She recalled passionate kissing, and then the Goblin King had bent her back, almost as if they were dancing and he was dipping her low. Then came the sensation of falling only to land gently on a very soft bed. Sarah had been surprised and had let out a startled gasp. The Goblin King had chuckled softly and whispered seductively, “Surely you did not wish to continue this on a broken stone floor?”

Sarah had nodded slightly, and then her memory started to become hazy from there. There had been more of the Goblin King’s drugging kisses, teasing touches, and then somehow clothing began to disappear as his lips followed a trail his hands had blazed only moments before, along her collarbone, over the swell of her breasts, and finally to her overly sensitized nipples that seemed to have some sort of direct connection to her clitoris. Sarah shivered as she recalled the sensation of his fingertips stroking through her damp curls, finally coming to rest at the little bundle of nerves hidden by the swell of her labia.

Sarah’s blush spread down her neck and chest as she recalled how she had moaned and whimpered, arching her back while tacitly begging for more. And the Goblin King had given her what she wanted, chuckling softly, he had slipped one finger and then two deep inside her, curling them up to press against something that made Sarah incoherent with pleasure while his thumb continued to circle her inflamed clitoris. He continued, brushing his thumb over her sensitive nub, stroking her passion higher and higher until finally Sarah’s world shattered and her world went white as she fell into an abyss of bright light. She cried out, inarticulate, hoarse sobs of joy as he teased every drop of pleasure he could from her tingling flesh. If she had thought that the Goblin King would allow her respite, she had another thing coming. His fingers continued their movements, becoming rougher and more demanding as her desire rose fiercely in her once again. Before a second orgasm could reach its crescendo inside her, he shifted their positions, gently removing his fingers in order to grasp her hips, dragging her smoothly down, and lifting her legs over his shoulders, as he settled between her smooth thighs. His tongue replaced his circling thumb and Sarah arched her back as the strange, tickling, teasing pressure of his tongue stoked her passions ever higher. His fingers returned, teasing her opening but not entering her. Sarah sobbed in a delightful mixture of desperate need and inarticulate pleasure until she couldn’t bear it any longer. “Please…, “she sobbed…”oh god, please…”

“What do you want, Sarah?” he whispered, his breath teasing her moist, sensitive flesh.

Sarah shivered as his breath ghosted over her. “Please…,” she whimpered.

“You have to tell me what you want, Precious,” he laughed softly before he bent his head and began to swirl his tongue with renewed vigor around her inflamed pleasure nub.

“Please,” she whispered brokenly, “just…just do it.”

“Do what, Sarah?” He laughed softly again, enjoying her inability to think clearly. He dragged his tongue firmly across her clitoris as she started to reply.

Sarah’s brain misfired, she was sure of it, as her reply turned into “uuunnnhhh….oooohhhh.”

“You have to tell me what you want, Precious,” he repeated, and he chuckled again before deliberately blowing gently across her moist flesh. He flicked his tongue out then, beginning a soft rhythm of gentle teasing flicks.

“You,” Sarah cried. “I…want….you.”

“You have me,” he replied softly.

“In….me,” she gasped.

In response the Goblin King slid one teasing finger back inside of her, gently massaging that spongy sensitive spot inside, the one that sent waves of pleasure ricocheting off of every nerve ending she possessed.

“No,” Sarah shouted.

The Goblin King stilled his movements instantly, and he raised himself slightly to look at Sarah as he began to slowly back away, her legs falling to the bed and her flushed skin beginning to chill at the distance. As the stimulation ceased, some of Sarah’s faculties and her ability to speak returned. “No,” Sarah repeated softly, halting him, unconsciously bending and tightening her legs behind him, her heels digging into the taut muscles in his thighs in this new position. “Not your fingers, not…,” she faltered. “I want…,” she flushed and looked fully at the Goblin King, “you know.”

“Yes, I think I do,” he said gently, “but I need for you to say it, Sarah. There can be no misunderstandings here.” He stared at her intently, all teasing gone now.

Sarah flushed a deep crimson. The Goblin King was right, she realized. She fought with her father and stepmother constantly. She wanted to be an adult, wanted to be treated as an adult…well, the activities in which she was currently engaged were certainly adult enough, but if she wanted more, she was going to have to own it.

The Goblin King had awoken something inside of her, a need, …a deep, aching need to be filled, to be consumed, wholly and completely. And Sarah wanted to give in to that need. The part of her that had stood toe-to-toe with the Goblin King, that had told him his labyrinth was a piece of cake, that had refused to accept her dreams in lieu of her baby brother…that defiant, reckless Sarah was in control right now, and she was so very tired of being a good girl.

Alright then, she would own it. “I want to…have…sex,” Sarah stammered a bit, but the words were very clear, and she met his gaze unflinchingly.

Jareth slid forward, and Sarah was reminded forcefully of a predatory animal as another hot stab of arousal shuddered through her. Somehow she knew that he understood the effect he was having on her as he moved to stare intently into her eyes, his body now positioned between her spread thighs; she shivered as the full knowledge of what could now happen, what she wanted to happen, penetrated her lust fogged brain. He placed one hand on either side of Sarah’s head, cupping her cheeks gently while gazing steadily into her eyes, forcing her to look directly at him as he silently impressed upon her just how very serious this had become. “Sarah,” he began softly, “have you ever done this before?”

She pressed her lips together and sighed, shaking her head slightly, the action tangling her hair in the Goblin King’s fingers.

“Are you sure, Sarah? Do you want this?” He paused slightly before slowly bending and whispering, “Do you want me?” against her lips as he kissed her tenderly. This kiss made her ache in a new place, one suspiciously close to her heart.

He seemed…Sarah wasn’t sure. Could he be uncertain? His eyes were hooded and the dim candlelight cast the room in deep shadows. Sarah hesitated, knowing she should back out now. She licked her suddenly dry lips, all the while watching the Goblin King’s hungry gaze. “Make love to me, Jareth,” she said softly.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Goblin King sat in his study sorting through what seemed to be a mountain of never-ending paperwork. The pixie queen wanted to open negotiations regarding harvesting peach blossom nectar that would be beneficial to both the goblin and pixie kingdoms, but he had no mind for details this morning. Each time he tried to focus, his mind turned to thoughts of Sarah and what had transpired the night before.

Jareth groaned. It was his name on her lips that had broken him. “Make love to me, Jareth,” she had whispered. And so, with a harsh release of breath, he had closed his eyes and surrendered.

He had intended to seduce her at first, but as their lovemaking progressed, he had changed his mind. She was so innocent, so unspoiled, so…young. He came to the unwelcome decision that he must be noble, to pleasure her, to let her reconsider and go home with her virginity intact. It was a decision that was at war with his hedonistic Fae nature. He had told himself that he could still let her go. It was a lie, and he had known it all along for the lie that it was. There were consequences to this act that she didn’t understand, that she may never forgive. But, the loneliness of his near endless existence ate a little more of his soul every day. And so, he had made love to her with all of the gentleness and considerable skill he possessed.

He closed his eyes and remembered the gentle innocence in her eyes as he kissed and caressed her, arousing her senses once more to a fever pitch, until her passions matched his own…the confusion that clouded her lust-filled eyes as he whispered the spell that would ease the pain as he breached her maidenhead…the gentle rocking motion of his hips as her initiation began into this world that had heretofore been unknown to her…her surprise and shout of pleasure as he pulled her leg up around his hip, changing the angle of the thrust…her wild, abandoned cries of pleasure…and finally his undoing, the long, drawn out cry of his name as her final, intense orgasm had torn through her. Without thought, with no heed of the consequences, he had done what he had known he would do, what he had known he could not resist doing--he had whispered the ancient Fae words of claiming, taking Sarah as his mate for all time.

She was not going to react well to this little piece of information.

He stood and paced to the window, watching the sun rise over the labyrinth. Before he dealt with Sarah, there was the entity of the Labyrinth to deal with as well. He leaned forward slightly. Quicker than thought, the Goblin King was no more and an ivory barn owl glided effortlessly toward the center of the labyrinth.

Jareth hated this part of his duties. The labyrinth was old, older than any living Fae, older than any being in the Underground, older than recorded time. The beginning of its existence lost to the ages. At some point in its lifetime, through a combination of time, magic, and other unknown factors, it had become sentient, aware of itself and its surroundings. It was aware--and that was all. Without a body, it knew neither fear nor pain. It did not understand love or pity. It cared not for kindness or jealousy. It had learned concepts like justice, but was unable to temper such with mercy. It best understood self-preservation; it would willingly do whatever was in its own, long-term best interests. In many ways, it was still a small child. At some point in history, it had formed a symbiotic relationship with the Goblin Monarchy. It found the monarchs useful; they helped care for its physical needs and upkeep, admired its beauty and usefulness, and allowed it to spend its time learning about the universe in which it resided. In return, it allowed its magic to infuse the land, creating diversity in the flora and fauna of the Underground, easing the lives of the non-magic wielding creatures, like redcaps and trolls, in allowing them to access simple magic, and defending the goblin kingdom from invaders.

It was a system that worked well. But still, Jareth disliked interacting with the emotionless entity, an entity with magic that rivaled his own but lacked even a modicum of compassion. It was a dangerous combination.

He glided in for a landing, seamlessly transforming back into his Fae form as he landed. “Labyrinth,” he called forcefully. “We need to speak.”

Instantly a floating sphere of bluish white light appeared at the Goblin King’s eye level.

“What news, Goblin King?” it asked in a low, almost mechanical voice, disjointed and without inflection.

“I wished to inform you that I have taken a mate,” he replied.

“Who?” the sphere pulsed delicately.

“The runner, Sarah Williams.”

“We see,” replied the Labyrinth. “The runner who won yesterday. She is worthy. We are pleased.”

“Why?” inquired Jareth smoothly. And when the orb remained silent, he clarified. “Why are you pleased?”

“Matings produce heirs,” replied the Labyrinth. “An heir will ensure continuity of leadership and stability when you choose to fade to the Summerlands as your father did before you.”

“He was not my father,” Jareth spat forcefully. “See that you do not make that mistake again.”

The orb pulsed, seeming to consider. “He took you in, an orphan, and called you ‘son’. He made you Goblin King. We do not understand your anger.”

“No, you clearly do not,” Jareth agreed and then changed the subject. “Sarah is to come to no harm in the labyrinth or in the surrounding lands. You will use every resource at your disposal to prevent injury or any harm to her or to any heirs,” he stated.

“Yes,” Labyrinth agreed, “so long as such protection does not hinder our own existence.”

Jareth nodded briefly and prepared to return to the castle.

“Wait, Goblin King.”

Jareth turned once again to the orb he knew as Labyrinth.

“When may we meet your new queen?”

“When she calms down,” Jareth replied as a small smile quirked his lips. “It may be a while.”

The Labyrinth pondered as the ivory owl launched himself skyward to head back to the castle. Well, Labyrinth decided, if Sarah were Queen, she must bear the unmistakable markings of a queen. Labyrinth would make it so.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sarah stretched again and padded over to what she assumed was a window as pale light shone around the edges. Reaching forward and grasping the edge of a curtain, she pulled it forcefully back and winced as bright light filled the room. Blinking repeatedly helped to dispel the tearing in her eyes, and as the room came into focus, she saw what appeared to be a note on the nightstand; she would have missed it but for the rose colored crystal sitting on top. She laid the crystal on her pillow, to prevent it from rolling onto the floor and possibly breaking, as she picked up and read the note. Written in a bold, masculine script she saw:

_Dear Sarah,_

_Sleep as long as you like and feel free to use the en suite at your leisure. Your parents believe you are on an extended camping trip for the weekend with a friend and her family and have no concerns for your well-being. A lady’s maid has been provided for you. Her name is Marna, and you’ve only to open the door and call for her. She will provide you with anything you need. Please join me at your convenience; any of the goblins will gladly lead you to me._

_J_

Sarah gazed into the crystal. It was Saturday morning in the Williams household. Karen, her stepmother, was trying to feed baby Toby what appeared to be some orange concoction that contained strained carrots. Sarah was certain that there was more carrot smeared on Toby’s face and bib than had gone into his mouth. As she watched, her father, Robert, strode into the kitchen wearing his lucky golf shirt, kissed his wife goodbye, and after taking a quick look at Toby, grinned and tousled his hair before leaving. Smiling to herself, Sarah went to find the en suite and see if there was a possibility of a long, hot bubble bath.

Sarah gasped as she entered the bathroom. It looked like something out of a billionaire’s personal estate, as seen on the _Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous_. Karen never missed an episode. The tile work was marble or granite maybe, smooth gray with tiny gold flecks. The bathtub could easily double as a pool, and massage jets lined its inside surface. There was even a freaking chandelier…in the bathroom, for god sakes. Sarah opened the cabinet next to the bath and found every conceivable bath product she could imagine in a myriad of scents. She finally closed her eyes and picked a bottle. She dumped half its contents into the bath, and after a bit of trial and error, figured out how to turn on the strangely shaped taps. Soon bubbles filled the bath and steam fogged the floor length mirrors.

Sarah grinned. It figured that the prissy Goblin King, who had a different outfit for every hour of the day, would have multiple floor length mirrors. She dipped a toe in the water and sighing in pleasure, slipped into the hot bath. She took her time, washing her hair and bathing as shampoo, extra towels and anything else she wanted seemed to magically appear. When the water began to cool, she exited the tub and turned down the water. She wrapped her hair in a towel, turban style, and then found a robe on the back of the door. She was uncertain if it was his or if it had been left for her use. Shrugging, she pulled it on anyway, until it snagged on her ring. Sarah paused. No, that couldn’t be right. She’d taken her ring off and put it in the Wise Man’s collection cup yesterday. She didn’t have a ring, especially not on her left hand. She knew she didn’t have a ring on a few minutes ago; it would have caught in her hair as she washed it. What the hell was going on? Clad in the soft, snowy white robe, she stepped out into the bedroom and walked over to the window to get a closer look.

There, on the fourth finger of her left hand, sat what unmistakably appeared to be a very expensive wedding ring. It was a beautiful ring: three large emerald cut diamonds, flawless, the largest in the middle flanked on either side by the slightly smaller stones--all three were surrounded by a halo of smaller, round diamonds and tiny diamonds wandered evenly down the shoulders of the thick band. It appeared shiny and new, but the style was vintage, antique even, and Sarah had the unshakeable feeling that it was very old. It felt heavy on her finger, like platinum, and when she turned her hand up to see the underside of the ring, she noted that the sigil of the Goblin King, the same one he wore around his neck, was etched deeply into the metal of the band. Nervous now but unable to articulate precisely why, Sarah grasped the ring firmly and tried to pull it off her finger. It wouldn’t budge. She pulled harder. Finally, she went back into the bathroom and applied liberal amounts of soap and ice cold water. The ring refused to come off--and not because it was stuck. The skin around it was not swollen or red, nor was there any discomfort; there was no indication that the ring was simply too tight. Sarah reluctantly concluded that magic was in play.

Sarah took a deep breath and tried to calm down. This had to be the Goblin King’s doing, but for what purpose? Did this mean something different in the Underground than in her world? She decided she needed information before she confronted him. She needed help. She needed….

“Marna,” Sarah called softly down the hallway. Within moments a small, dwarf woman with tight, iron gray curls appeared. She made an awkward curtsy while asking, “What can I do for you, Milady?”

She sounded, Sarah thought to herself, remarkably like Aunt Clara in the old reruns of _Bewitched_ that Sarah watched when there was nothing else on t.v. Come to think of it, Marna kind of looked like her too.

“What’s this?” Sarah inquired, as she thrust her hand under the dwarf’s slightly bulging nose.

“Tis a ring, Milady,” Marna replied, looking confused.

“I know that…oh, never mind,” Sarah reconsidered. “Is there a way I can talk to my friends, Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo?”

“Oh yes, any mirror in the castle, Milady. Just says who you wants ta speak to, and a mirror near that person will connect you. Does you wants me to show you?”

“No, no…I’m sure I can figure it out,” replied Sarah, hoping for a bit of privacy. “Could you come back in an hour, please?”

“Oh certainly, Milady.” The little dwarf curtsied again and left, shutting the door softly behind her.

Sarah took a deep breath and sat down at a vanity mirror in the corner of the bedroom. It looked like it had been put there for her use, as it contained make-up in her preferred shades, perfumes she liked, and her favorite brands of moisturizers and skin wipes.

Leaning forward, Sarah whispered as loudly as she dared, “Hoggle…Hoggle, I need to talk to you.”

Just as Sarah began to feel kind of silly talking to a piece of glass, Hoggle’s image appeared in the vanity mirror. “Sarah,” he exclaimed, a smile breaking out across his face. “We heard you won.”

“I did,” Sarah replied. “Toby’s safe at home.”

“I’m pleased to hear it My Lady,” said Sir Didymus, who appeared over Hoggle’s right shoulder, his nose twitching keenly.

Sarah must have looked surprised to see them together, for Hoggle hastened to explain. “Me and Didymus was just having some tea. We’s waiting to hear whether Didymus is being reassigned now that there ain’t no bridge to guard no more.”

Sarah nodded. “Listen, I need your help. Can you tell me what this is?” Sarah asked as she held her hand out toward the mirror. “It just appeared on my hand, and it won’t come off.”

“Sarah,” said Hoggle slowly, “is there mebbe som’n on the bottom o’ that ring?”

Sarah turned her hand over so that the sigil of the Goblin King was clearly visible.

“My Lady.” Sir Didymus said slowly and cautiously, “where are you?”

“At the castle…” Sarah replied, becoming conscious for the first time that she wore nothing but a towel and a robe.

Hoggle and Sir Didymus exchanged glances, and then their low, furious whispers carried across the mirror. “You cannot ask….” “…isn’t honorable…” …”Jareth’s a rat…” “she’s a lady…”

“Guys,” Sarah interrupted, “I need to know.”

“Sarah,” began Hoggle, and he paused to rub his hand tiredly across his eyes, “did you mebbe do som’n last night that ya’ shouldna’ done?”

“Like what?” Sarah bit her lip hard and tried not to blush.

“Som’n good girls don’t do,” hedged Hoggle, clearly uncomfortable with this entire conversation.

Sarah sighed. There was just no keeping this quiet. “Yes,” she admitted, a deep flush creeping across her face. “I had sex with the Goblin King last night.”

“Thought so,” muttered Hoggle. “Why’d ya go and do a thing like that? I told ya he was a rat.”

Sarah shrugged and her blush deepened.

Sir Didymus looked stricken. “Well,” he said at last, “at least His Majesty did the honorable thing.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked, fear creeping into her voice.

Sir Didymus looked slightly confused as he nodded toward Sarah’s ring. “He claimed you, My Lady. You’re married to the Goblin King.”

Hoggle nodded in agreement as every bit of the blush drained from Sarah’s face, leaving her white and shaken. “Oh God, no,” Sarah whispered, “This can’t be happening.”

“I’m afraid, My Lady, that it already has.” Sir Didymus looked forlornly at Sarah, and Hoggle simply nodded again.

After ascertaining that neither Hoggle nor Sir Didymus knew of any way to undo a Claiming, Sarah sat and stared at nothing until she heard a cautious knock. She ignored it, and continued to ignore it as her thoughts swirled through her head. There had to be some way to undo this…this…mess. After all, the Goblin King had promised to take her home. Could the Fae lie, after all? What if…

“Begging your pardon, Milady,” began Marna, “I has come back several times, I has, but you didn’t seem ready. Its nearly supper time, and I is ordered to dress you and bring you down for dinner.”

Sarah nodded numbly. God, she was so tired and her thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning. Sarah raised a curious eyebrow when Marna brought forth a dress that looked almost identical to her princess costume she used to enact the Labyrinth story in the park.

“His majesty knows you has a dress like this one and likes it a lot, so he ordered this for ya’s,” Marna prattled cheerfully. Sarah was surprised to see that she was still in the white robe with a towel wrapped around her head. She glanced out the window and noted that the sun had set, and it was nearing full dark. Bemused, she let Marna guide her into the new dress and undergarments and allowed the little dwarf to comb out her still damp hair and braid it loosely down her left shoulder, securing the end with a red ribbon. Marna then slipped a pair of what appeared to be ivory colored doe skin slippers on her feet right before she tugged Sarah to her feet and began leading her to supper.

Sarah found that she was still strangely numb, a creeping lassitude stealing over her as she was led, not to the dining hall, but to a smaller room that appeared to be a sun room of sorts, filled with exotic plants and fragrances. An intimate table for two was set near the center of the room; seated at the table was the Goblin King, immaculately dressed in a suit very like the one he had worn in the ballroom in her peach dream. Three of the room’s walls and the ceiling were glass; starlight filled the sky and lanterns lit the pathways of a garden outside. It was beautiful beyond words. It was romantic. It was pissing Sarah off.

The creeping lassitude was fast disappearing, as Sarah rounded what looked like a lilac tree in full bloom and confronted the Goblin King. “Did you claim me?” she raged, brandishing her raised hand with the sparkling ring.

Jareth, who had risen at the sight of Sarah as propriety dictated, stood stock still; the only movement was the twitching of a muscle in his taut jaw. The Labyrinth, he fumed internally; it was the only entity aware of the claiming other than himself, and he certainly hadn’t placed the ring of the Goblin Queen on Sarah’s finger. He silently cursed it. This was not how he had intended to tell Sarah. In fact, he wasn’t completely certain how he had intended to broach the matter with Sarah, but it certainly wouldn’t have been, “Oh, by the way, when we had sex, I claimed you, and you’re the Goblin Queen forever now.” He silently pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, a gesture he frequently made when dealing with the antics of the palace goblins and regarded her carefully. Oh, she was working up a fine head of steam.

“Did you?” Sarah shouted. “How could you? I have a life, a family! Did you give any thought at all to me?” She was screeching now, and Jareth had gripped the edge of the table silently debating whether to stay and let her rage until she was calm enough to have a civil discussion or whether escape was the better part of valor in the face of Sarah’s rage. Escape was winning out, hands down, when Sarah reached forward with a desperate motion to grab at the nearest chair.

She closed her eyes as her vision narrowed and white lights danced in front of her eyes. Her knees buckled, and she would have pitched forward if not for the swift action of the Goblin King. Cradling her gently, he eased her into a chair and knelt, looking into her face intently.

“Sarah, when did you eat last?” he inquired.

“Uhmmm…yesterday afternoon, a bite of that peach,” Sarah replied distractedly.

The Goblin King cursed under his breath and conjured a crystal goblet containing something that looked like pink juice. He pressed it into Sarah’s hand, noting the fine tremors in her fingers. “Drink this, all of it,” he ordered.

Sarah’s gave him a look that threatened mutiny, but she appeared to think better of it and drained the glass. Within moments of drinking the syrupy sweet concoction, she began to feel better. The Goblin King watched her closely, and nodded briefly as he noted some color coming back into her cheeks.

“Now, about this…this claiming…thing,” Sarah began.

The Goblin King held up one gloved hand to stop the impending tirade. “I will answer your questions,” he said in a cool voice, the inflection sharp and precise, “so long as you eat your meal. If you stop eating, I will stop answering. There will be no further incidents like this one, Sarah. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous…,” Sarah snapped.

“What if you had vertigo at the top of the stairs?” countered the Goblin King smoothly.

Sarah pictured herself pitching headfirst down the huge marble staircase. With a sigh, she picked up her fork and muttered, “fine.”

After she had taken a few bites, she turned to face the Goblin King. “Did you claim me last night?”

Jareth gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Yes.”

Sarah pondered that for a brief moment. “What, exactly, does that mean for me?”

Jareth sighed. “The full answer to that question would take days to explain. There are ramifications both political and magical. For your purposes, it means that you are my wife; you are the Goblin Queen.”

Sarah let out a low groan at this. “Can it be undone?” Sarah cried out.

“No.”

“There must be some sort of Fae divorce,” Sarah stammered out. “Surely some sort of…of…annulment process.”

“No, a Fae claiming is for life.”

Sarah gasped. Hoggle and Sir Didymus had told her much the same thing, but to hear it confirmed so plainly was still shocking.

“No, no, no…” Sarah was very close to tears at this point, but she’d be damned before she’d allow a single tear to fall in front of the Goblin King. She stared at her plate, as she blinked back the tears. Finally, she raised her eyes to look at the King of the Goblins. “Why,” whispered Sarah at last, “why did you do this?”

“I have my reasons,” he replied calmly and promptly vanished in a shower of black and silver glitter.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

Oh, he was going to pay for that. But, he needed time, time to figure out a way to explain things to her. Such a convoluted mess. He paced distractedly as he used his crystals to gather additional information. He then contacted his spies for an update.

A few minutes later, the full horror of the situation was beginning to sink in. When all the cards were laid on the table, Sarah was going to hate someone, perhaps several someones, and he fervently hoped he would not be one of them. Damn the Labyrinth! It had forced his hand before he was ready. Not only had it marked Sarah as the Goblin Queen, it had taken the liberty of posting the claiming banns throughout the kingdom, announcing the match. He cursed loudly and fluently in guttural Goblin, the most vile language he knew.

He had loosely planned to return her to her parents’ home, to court her slowly over the next year or so, to ease her into her role as Goblin Queen. Now his plans, such as they were, were all for naught. His spies had just informed him that the news of his claiming had reached the High Fae Court. He sighed loudly and rubbed one hand viciously across his eyes, attempting to assuage an oncoming headache. It was his own fault, he supposed. He hadn’t instructed the Labyrinth to keep this a secret, and, very like the small child it was, if it hadn’t expressly been told that it could not do something, it had assumed itself to have carte blanche. The real question was why. The Labyrinth, in all his many years as Goblin King, had never interfered in the lives of the people. It simply couldn’t be bothered with what it considered trivial minutiae like marriages, births, coronations…anything really having to do with flesh and blood creatures. It had simply never occurred to Jareth to forbid its interference because it had never before shown the slightest interest in him or anyone else.

“This,” Jareth told himself savagely, “this, is what comes from not having a well-thought out advance plan where all possible contingencies and ramifications have been thoroughly considered.” He had known the moment that he had first decided to claim her that there would be difficulties and unforeseen consequences, but this…everything that could possibly go wrong so far had done so, spectacularly. He needed time. Time to come up with a plan, to strategize.

There was no taking her to her parents’ home now, he realized. With the reading of the claiming banns, there would be court introductions, a coronation ceremony, and all of the other ridiculous trappings of Fae society. If he returned her now, there would be whispers, gossip; it would cost him the respect of many of his subjects and the other Fae lords, weakening his position and possibly putting his kingdom at risk. He could not…would not…do that. The Labyrinth was right in that regard; the stability of the kingdom was paramount; his responsibilities to his people remained undiminished. His happiness and Sarah’s as well might be the required sacrifice.

His thoughts were interrupted by an urgent knocking. “Go away!” Jareth shouted. The door hesitantly opened anyway.

“Please sire, don’t bog Meep,” cried the little goblin, shaking so that he could barely stand.

Jareth bit the inside of his lip until he tasted blood. “What is it Meep?”

“Begging your pardon, sire, we thought you should know that the Lady Sarah…”

“Queen Sarah,” Jareth corrected automatically.

“Queen Sarah,” Meep continued, “is on her way to your study and should be here….”

“Right about now,” a slightly out of breath Sarah finished the sentence loudly, pushed Meep out the door forcefully with the toe of her slipper, and slammed the door as she turned and confronted the Goblin King.

“Don’t you dare glitter poof your way out of here, your majesty,” she said with heated sarcasm. “You may not want to answer my questions or explain any of this, but you did give me your word that you would take me home to stay whenever I wanted to go. I want to go home, right now.” Sarah crossed her arms and glared at the Goblin King.

She was furious, no doubt about it. Jareth stood with a sigh, knowing what he was about to do now was going to make the situation exponentially worse.

“Very well,” he said as strode over to her and wrapped his arms around her.

“What the hell?” Sarah grumbled as she put both hands on his chest and pushed. He didn’t budge.

“Sarah, I have to have a secure hold on your person in order to transport you safely.” He tightened his hold.

Sarah fumed silently at both him and her traitorous body, as the scent of him, moonbeams and magic, enveloped her, and she again felt the heat of his body. A part of her wanted this, wanted even more. But, she’d willingly damn herself to hell before telling him that.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, the ghost of his breath tickling her ear and neck, making her shiver in re-awakened arousal.

“Yes,” she stammered as the world faded away.

They re-materialized in the Goblin King’s bedroom.

“What…” Sarah trailed off, looking around her in shock.

She stared open-mouthed at the Goblin King. Jareth extended a gloved forefinger and placed it under her chin, gently closing her mouth. He smirked at her shock. Sarah couldn’t believe this. She gestured around her.

“You lied to me, you bastard! This isn’t my home.”

Jareth quirked an eyebrow and continued to smirk. “Oh but it is, Precious. Fae do not lie, regardless of your beliefs about my parentage. In case you’d forgotten, I claimed you last night,” and saying that, he gave her a knowing, heated stare. “You’re the Goblin Queen now. You are home. To stay.” And in saying that, the bedroom door slammed shut and locked, and the Goblin King vanished in a shower of glitter.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

A moment later, the Goblin King reappeared in his study.  He sat down, propped his booted feet on his desk and proceeded to laugh until his sides hurt.  Oh yes, he had just made the situation exponentially worse.  If she had been angry before, she was enraged now.  But, the expression on her face had been priceless.  He laughed again like a gleeful child.  Despite the fact that everything seemed to be going wrong, he was having more fun than he’d had since…well….since ever.  The banality of his humrum existence had been shaken to its core, and despite the current obstacles, he was positively giddy at the thought of this playing out. 

 

He smiled to himself and conjured a crystal, watching curiously as Sarah’s image appeared.  She appeared to be trying to escape.  He watched as she tried the windows and the balcony door.  He idly wondered if she would attempt an escape that way if she could get the magically-sealed windows open, since there was an eighty foot drop.  But since she could not, she moved on, looking for vents, hidden passageways and connecting doors.  He had to admire her persistence and creative ingenuity.  Finding no means of escape, she came back to the main door and kicked it hard.  He gave a mirthful smirk as she rubbed her sore toes afterward.  Making a few more restless circuits of the room, she finally wandered over and sat down on the bed, where she noticed the rose colored crystal still lying on her pillow.  She idly picked it up, forlornly watching her family.  It was then that the tears began, softly at first, then great crashing sobs as her misery, frustration and fear welled over.

 

Jareth’s mirth ceased instantly.  In his joy, he had temporarily forgotten what she was: a young human female with tender feelings.  Her love and loyalty to her family, to her little brother in particular, was one of the things that had drawn his interest…and hope…that said love and devotion could be kindled in her toward his subjects and maybe someday to him as well.  He enjoyed her anger, her defiance, her lust (he admitted to himself), but her tears were his undoing.  In general, Jareth held the typical male view of things.  Crying females were to be avoided at all costs.  But, he was responsible for these tears.  His thoughts swirled.  Should he leave her to grieve her loss in peace?  Should he pretend not to know of her tears?  Should he try to comfort her?  Would his presence make things worse?  His thoughts chased one another around his head like a dog chases its tail.  Sighing, he stood.  He would offer what comfort he could, whatever she would take from him.

 

For the second time in less than an hour, he transported himself to his bed chamber.

 

She was curled into a fetal position.  The onslaught of tears had passed, leaving the aftermath of occasional quiet sobs, hiccups, red, swollen eyes, and a combination tension and sinus headache bloomed behind her eyes.  In short, Sarah was truly miserable.  She felt his presence instantly.  One moment she was alone, the next, she felt movement on the bed behind her, and she felt his arm come around her as he gently curled his body around hers.  She idly wondered whether she could hurt him if she brought her elbow back hard, but she was just too tired to care anymore.

 

“Go away, Goblin King.  I’m tired of playing your games.  I…I have nothing left to give,” Sarah whispered brokenly.

 

“Shhhh,” Jareth whispered.  “I did not come to torment you.”  Saying that, he raised his right hand to his mouth and used his teeth to tug off his glove.  He dropped it on the bed and placed his cool, pale, long-fingered hand against Sarah’s forehead.  She tried to turn away, but he followed, pressing firmly against her forehead.

 

“What are you…” she began.

 

“Shhhh,” he repeated.

 

She began to feel it then, a slight numbness and then a tingling sensation as her headache dissipated and the painful swelling left her eyes. 

 

“Thanks,” Sarah muttered, desperately wishing she could figure him out.

 

“You’re welcome,” he replied, as he began methodically and rhythmically running his fingers along her scalp and through her hair, relaxing her even further.

 

She sighed finally.  “Jareth, why did you do this?” she inquired in a resigned whisper.

 

At any other time, he would have goaded her for the imprecise question for the simple joy of riling her temper, but she was at the end of her rope, and he knew it.  He didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. 

 

“If you believe nothing else, believe that I never intended to cause you this misery,” he said softly, continuing to stroke gently through her hair.  “I…,” and he paused, knowing this confession would likely anger her but seeing no real way around it.  “I saw your dreams…in the crystal I offered to you.  You wanted to be a princess, beloved by your subjects.  You wanted to make the world a better place, make a real difference, and bring joy to others.  My kingdom needs a queen, a queen just like that.  I thought we could each be what the other needed.”

 

Sarah turned in his arms so that she was staring directly into his pale, mismatched eyes, as she narrowed her own.  “Is that the whole truth?”

 

He grinned.  “Part of it…a very large part but not all of it.  I had other reasons as well.”

 

“So, what are they…the other reasons?”

 

He shook his head sadly, and Sarah let out a frustrated sigh.  “How am I supposed to trust you when you never tell me the whole truth?”

 

“The whole truth is overrated,” replied the Goblin King smoothly.  “Sleep now, Sarah.”

 

And Sarah felt that singular numbness spread through her mind and body as she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sarah woke the next morning warm and rested; she felt wonderful and was about to drift back off into a doze when she realized her pillow was moving. She tried to press it flat but consciousness penetrated her sleep drugged brain and she belatedly realized that her pillow was breathing. Oh my God. She lay on her side, her head rested on the Goblin King’s shoulder, her face pressed into the smooth flesh of his chest, her left arm draped across his abdomen, and her left leg thrown carelessly over his lower body falling so that it nestled between his thighs. She felt her own body go rigid. How was she going to get off of him without him knowing? The answer came a brief moment later--she wasn’t.

“Good morning, Sarah,” he purred. “Sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” she replied stiffly. She had just started to roll away when the Goblin King tightened the arm on which she lay and captured the hand that was pressed to his abdomen. 

“Relax, Sarah,” he said as he began to slowly massage the palm of her hand with his thumb.

“I can’t. I have to figure out some way out of this.”

“Why?”

At that she jerked forcefully away and sat up, staring at him open mouthed. “Are you serious?” she asked incredulously.

“Quite,” replied Jareth calmly as he crossed his arms behind his head and gazed levelly at her. “Remember, Sarah, I’ve seen your dreams.”

She gave him a disbelieving look that clearly said, “So what?”

He sighed and sat up smoothly to face her, leaning lazily against the headboard. “You have an opportunity here that few humans will ever realize. To live in a land of magic and dreams, to be the queen you wanted to be, to truly make a difference in your subjects’ lives. You have friends here. You could have so much, if you’d only embrace the possibilities.”

Sarah sat stunned for a moment. “So, I’m just supposed to abandon my family, my education, my life to what?….take on this role of Goblin Queen? I’m not qualified to be the queen of anything. I have no idea what I’m doing. In my world, if I screw up, then I suffer the consequences. If I fuck up as a queen, I could ruin other peoples’ lives, Jareth!” Her voice was rising and a note of hysteria had crept in. 

Before she could blink, Jareth had grabbed her arm and pulled her into his side, tucking her head under his chin as he held her. “Shhhh, Sarah,” he whispered. “Relax, take a deep breath and listen carefully. First of all, living in the Underground is not an all or nothing proposition. You know I go Above frequently. You could visit your family whenever you like, and they would be welcome here. You’re a…” and here Jareth hesitated as he searched for the word, “sophomore, yes?”

“Junior,” Sarah corrected. “I skipped a grade.”

“So, you would have been going off to university in a year anyway, right?”

Sarah nodded.

“If you wanted an Aboveground university education, that could be arranged. You would,” and again Jareth paused to find the right word, “commute… just like many other students; your commute would simply be via magical means. Although, I do think it would be better to start you with a tutor here right away and send you to one of the Underground universities. But it would be your choice. As to being queen, no monarch takes on the responsibilities of a kingdom without the proper knowledge to do so. The previous Goblin King trained me, as he was trained himself by the Goblin King before him. The Dowager Summer Queen yet lives, and I am certain she would enjoy the opportunity to instruct you. I would also help you, Sarah. No one expects you to take on the full role of Queen until you are ready.”

Sarah sat stunned. Jareth made it sound so possible, it was scary.

“What about…” Sarah bit her lip and looked down at her hands twisted in her lap, “the married part of this thing?” She raised her eyes to peer intently into the Goblin King’s amused face.

“Why Sarah, I was under the impression that you quite enjoyed that part of this thing,” he mocked gently. “If not, I will be most happy to practice until you are quite thoroughly satisfied,” he whispered seductively. 

Sarah flushed. “I didn’t mean…,” she stammered then sighed. “I’ve never even had a boyfriend. How do I make a marriage work? I’ll never be an equal partner. You’re older than I am; I think by a lot. How old are you anyway?”

“I’m not really sure. I had been the Goblin King for many, many years at the time the First Crusade was launched. Of course, I can remember when Christianity was in its infancy.”

“My God,” Sarah uttered in shock. “That would make you over two thousand years old.”

Jareth shrugged. “Most age differences among Fae equal out in a century or two.”

“Which brings me to the next point. I won’t live long enough to be Goblin Queen or ever be an equal partner to you. I’ll be dead of old age in about sixty years, give or take five years. I’m human.”

“No you are not,” Jareth replied. “You have a significant amount of Fae blood in you.”

“No, that’s not possible.”

“Fae interbreed with humans all the time, Sarah. Sometimes the human partner knows their lover is Fae; sometimes they do not. Regardless, Fae blood is in the human gene pool, and most humans have at least trace amounts of it. You have significantly more than the average human; enough to become fully Fae and wield magic of your own.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“I just am,” he replied evasively. 

“How would that work?”

“It’s a completely passive process. The magic of the Underground will bind to your Fae blood. In one full moon cycle the transformation will be complete.”

“One full moon cycle,” Sarah repeated. “Is that twenty-eight days, like in the Above?”

“Yes.”

So in twenty-six days, I’m going to become Fae if I stay here?”

Jareth objected to her use of the term “if” but said nothing. She was the Goblin Queen now; he had claimed her, and he would do everything in his power to ensure she became Fae. He would not lose his mate.

He nodded, keeping the rest of his thoughts to himself. 

It was all too much. Sarah jerked away from Jareth and hunched forward pulling her knees up to her chest as she wrapped her arms tightly around her bent legs. “I can’t…,” she began. “How am I supposed to do this…make decisions about the rest of my life? My God, Jareth, I’m still a kid.”

Jareth jerked upright and stood in a flash. Making a gesture as if he were about to summon a crystal, his gray sleep leggings disappeared, and he stood before her fully dressed in his usual garb, tight gray pants, knee high boots, a cream colored poet’s shirt and a brown leather jacket. “You are no child,” he stated forcefully as he began to pace. “This ridiculous modern notion that childhood extends to the age of twenty-one and that offspring should reside with their parents long after they should be contributing members of society…it’s just ridiculous. In many parts of the world, young adults your age support their families, birth children, and are treated as full adults, as it has been for thousands of years!” He spun to face her, and there was no teasing glint in his eyes. “You are young, yes…that I concede, but to insinuate that your choices should have no validity due to your age is absurd. You know your interests, goals, intentions. At this point in your life, you are a child only if you choose to be.”

Sarah hesitated and filed this information away for later. This was clearly a hot button issue for the Goblin King. “Is it even my choice to make…whether I become Fae or not?”

Jareth paused and looked at her hard. Sighing, finally he nodded: ultimately, he didn‘t want to give her the choice, but so many choices had already been taken from her already that he couldn‘t justify removing the option. That wasn‘t to say that he wouldn‘t do everything in his power to ensure she made the right choice. “I cannot take you back to your family to live; the political ramifications would be severe, but I can take you Above long enough to interrupt the process if you wish to delay the decision, or if you decide that you really do not want to become Fae. Though why you would not is incomprehensible.”

Sarah chewed her lip thoughtfully. “What are the advantages?”

“Well, you would have a much longer, healthier lifespan. Fae are relatively immune from disease, including all human diseases and ailments, you would likely wield a significant amount of magic because of your Fae bloodline, and you would have some form of the Sight. At the very least, you would be able to see through glamours and other magical concealments, both here and in the Above. If you are more fortunate, you might receive powerful intuition, the gift of prophecy, or an ability to see into possible futures along the timelines, as I do.”

“Is that why your eyes…?” Sarah trailed off, realizing belatedly that her question was incredibly rude.

“Yes, if you see me turn my head and stare forward out of my left eye, know that I am seeing a possible future. And, no, I am not omniscient. The future is in constant flux. Mortals, Fae, and other beings are blessed with free will, so the future changes as decisions are made. Some events are practical certainties, for once a chain of events begins, it becomes almost impossible to alter the future. Other events move along a changeable course but become either more or less certain as that moment in time gets closer.”

She digested this slowly. “So, what are the disadvantages to becoming Fae?”

“We are susceptible to cold iron and concentrated salt. They weaken Fae magic and make us vulnerable.”

“I have iron in my blood and salt,” Sarah gasped. “I’d die if I underwent this transition.”

“As I said, cold iron and concentrated salt. The salt and iron in your blood is in trace amounts, and it is quite warm. The cold iron of weapons and large quantities of iron or steel in manmade structures in larger cities will cause a noticeable weakening with prolonged exposure. However, the remnants of your human blood will offer a good measure of protection. As with wolves, hybrids are healthier than purebreds. Older Fae are also more resistant. As you age, you will become nearly immune to the effects of both iron and salt. Your Fae bloodline is your heritage, your birthright. As the advantages far outweigh the disadvantages, I strongly recommend you claim your birthright regardless of whether you eventually choose to live in the Underground or Above.”

Sarah sat somewhat stunned as Jareth walked to the door. “Sarah, I suggest you dress and join me in my study for breakfast. In the interim, there are three issues you need to come prepared to discuss: firstly, what do you intend to do about your Fae heritage in the immediate future? Secondly, what sort of educational arrangement do you believe would benefit you most, and finally, what do you intend to do about your father and stepmother? Although time is passing slower in the Above, they will be expecting you back from your ‘camping trip’ early tomorrow afternoon.” So saying this, the Goblin King spun on his heel and exited the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

Sarah continued to stare after him for a moment before bunching her fists and pounding the mattress with a soft scream of frustration. Muttering to herself, “You have sex with me like an adult, then you feed me like a little kid and lock me in a bedroom, and now we’re back to making major life decisions in the next fifteen minutes. Your mood swings, Goblin King, are giving me whiplash.” Sarah began preparing for the day.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The Goblin King had been working in earnest for only a few minutes when Meep came bursting into the room. “Beg pardon, Your Majesty, the Lady Lindell…“ Meep’s slow drawl was abruptly cut short by a high soprano shriek that tore like a crossbow bolt straight through Jareth’s temple. 

“What have you done!” shrieked the Lady Lindell, storming into Jareth’s study in a flurry of silken skirts, slamming the door hard in poor Meep’s face. Unnoticed by both the Goblin King and the Lady, the door had slammed so hard that the ensuing counterforce of the slam had returned the door to a slightly open position before the strike plate could engage the latch.

Jareth was on his feet and rounding his desk before she could take another step. “Silence!” he thundered, making her gasp and hold in the ensuing tirade. “You forget yourself. You may be the Lady Lindell of the Fae House of Tuatha de Danaan, but I am the Goblin King,” Jareth stated forcefully. “And you will show me the proper respect.” His eyes blazed cruelly as he fixed her with an icy stare, which was broken only when she lowered her gaze and dropped into a hasty curtsy.

“My apologies, Your Highness.” Her voice came out tight and high, restrained but barely so.

He gestured for her to sit, and as she took a seat on his reading couch, he noted that she composed her shaking hands.

“What have you done?” she repeated in that same barely controlled shriek.

“You are going to have to be more specific, Lindell; I’ve done a great many things of late, none of which concern you.”

She opened the small purse she carried and pulled out a piece of crumpled parchment. She thrust a copy of the claiming banns at Jareth, but he made no move to take it.

“This,” she hissed on a high whisper. “What do you have to say now?”

Jareth shrugged. “Nothing. In fact, I fail to see how this concerns you.”

In the face of his cool nonchalance, she was no longer able to control herself. She jumped up and began to pace.

“We have a contract, you and I,” she screeched, voice rising. 

“And your point?” inquired Jareth smoothly.

“Sarah Williams is just a child,” shouted Lindell, a note of hysteria creeping into her voice. 

It was the shouted “Sarah Williams” that did it. Sarah had been listening to the entire exchange from the hallway, but at that, she pushed open the door intent on confrontation, certain that she was right.

“Mother,” stated Sarah flatly, beyond shock at this point, “What are you doing here? And what contract do you have with the Goblin King?”

The Lady Lindell, aka Linda Williams, spun around on a sharply indrawn gasp to confront her daughter. Speechless, for perhaps the first time in her life, Linda simply continued to stare. 

“Sarah,” Jareth’s voice cut, harsh and biting, through the staring contest. “This does not concern you. Return to…”

“No,” Sarah shouted. “Don’t you dare try to treat me like a child again after just telling me to grow up and take responsibility for myself! This very clearly does concern me, and I have the right to know.” Her gaze shifted from Jareth, whose mismatched eyes regarded her with a nameless sadness, to her mother, who was unable to meet her daughter’s fierce gaze. She idly fingered the silk scarf she wore wrapped tightly around her neck despite the heat of summer and looked away from Sarah’s accusing eyes.

“Well,” Sarah spoke into the silence, “let’s start with this contract. I want to see it, right now!”

If looks could kill, Linda Williams knew that she would be dead three times over as the fierce fire of the Goblin King’s rage raked over her. With a quick motion, he conjured a small crystal that popped like a soap bubble, leaving a scroll tied with a simple green ribbon. He handed it wordlessly to Sarah, who took it with slightly trembling fingers.

“Sarah, please…”

It was the “please” that stopped her. She didn’t believe that she had ever heard that word uttered by the Goblin King.

“There are some things,” he continued, “that once you know you cannot un-know. Be very certain you want to read that.”

Sarah paused in the act of unrolling it across the Goblin King’s desk. “I have to,” she whispered. The room was silent but for the whispering rustle of paper. Being the daughter of an attorney, Sarah fully expected the contract to be full of some coded Fae legalese, but it was simple and straightforward. In a nutshell, the contract granted Lindell/Linda Williams unmatched talent and thespian abilities to be provided via Jareth’s magic in exchange for Sarah as a bride to the Goblin King, with the caveat that he must claim her prior to her eighteenth birthday.

Sarah sat heavily in the nearby desk chair and stared at her mother. “You sold me,” she finally whispered, “like a prize heifer at the local 4H Fair.” Her voice was rising until she was screaming. “You sold me!” she repeated, finally rounding to look at the Goblin King. “And you,” she accused, hatred dripping from every syllable, “You bought me! You…you own me?” Her voice wavered and the final note made the statement a disbelieving question.

“No,” the Goblin King’s voice tore harshly through the languid numbness that was spreading through her body as the hot anger began to dissipate into shock. “Not slave…wife.”

Sarah looked sharply at her mother, remembering her self-centered, selfish vanity and was very certain that if the Goblin King had demanded a slave, then her mother would have gladly contracted Sarah as a slave in exchange for her dreams. Sarah realized that she was backing toward the door as Jareth walked towards her, holding one gloved hand forward, entreating softly, “Sarah…”

Her vision blurred as her eyes filled with stinging tears. “No, I can’t…” came out as a ragged, harsh whisper, and she ran, blindly, through corridors, down a staircase, through the doors and toward the labyrinth. 

“You did this,” Lindell hissed.

“We did this,” Jareth corrected, “and now, as usual, you will leave your mess behind, and I will deal with the aftermath.”

“You cannot keep her,” Lindell insisted. “She is too young. I will petition the High Fae Council to set aside the contract.”

“Do as you will, Lindell.” Jareth smirked cruelly, his eyes glinting mischief as if he knew something she did not. “But know this, had you truly cared for the girl, you would have placed a minimum age for the claiming in the contract, and I am not the only Fae cunning enough to realize this.” She blanched as the taunt struck home.

He strode to the door. “Now, get out. You are no longer welcome here. Should your presence darken the Goblin Kingdom again, I will order you arrested on sight.”


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sarah ceased running as the stitch in her side finally overcame her ability to push past the pain. She was deep into the labyrinth at this point, but in a place she had not been before, a small garden graced by a bubbling fountain. As she flung herself forward and let the dewy grass cool her overheated face, she was struck again by her anger and sheer outrage, her emotions so thick she was unable to shed a tear. This mess just kept getting better and better. Her own mother had sold her to the Goblin King. Was her father in on it too? His signature had not appeared on the contract, but did he know? The Goblin King had told her that the claiming was permanent, but through her father, Sarah had some knowledge of contract law, at least in the Above. Contracts could be void, voidable, or modified by the parties depending on circumstances. Had Jareth lied? Could a Fae lie? God, she needed help, and if she didn’t get it soon, she would need mental help--the kind that comes with a straightjacket and padded walls.

______________

Jareth watched her in the conjured crystal as she struggled with her anger, her pain, and her fear. Sighing, he stood and approached the mirror that hung over the fireplace. “Ana, I need you,” he spoke clearly, if reluctantly. He hated to involve Ana but felt he had no choice in the matter. Sarah needed Ana’s help, and for Sarah, he would put aside his pride, just this one time. Ana’s beaming face appeared in the mirror, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Well, my long lost brother deigns to speak to me at last. Whatever can this mean?” she taunted gently.

He quickly outlined the current circumstances of the situation. “My dear brother, you have been busy,” she said with raised eyebrows. “What do you need from me?” she inquired softly.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Sarah was alone to wallow in her misery, utterly and completely alone, until she wasn’t. She felt the shimmer of magic and a presence. “Go the fuck away, Jareth,” she cried as she pushed herself up on her hands and wiped her sleeve carelessly across her runny nose. She gasped audibly when she saw the beautiful blonde woman in a midnight blue high-waisted empire dress smiling down at her. “I’m sorry,” Sarah murmured, as she struggled to stand.

“Think nothing of it,” said the beautiful woman with a smile as she sat down in the grass next to Sarah. “Were I in your predicament, I would be just as,” she paused slightly, “upset,” she said smoothly.

“Who are you?” Sarah asked curiously. “How do you know about my ‘predicament’?”

“I’m Ana. I’m Jareth’s baby sister.” She smiled. “Usually, it’s Brigid he goes to when he gets himself into trouble, but he thought you and I would be great friends, and you really need someone to talk to, don‘t you?” The sympathy was clear in her eyes.

Sarah gave her an appraising gaze. On the one hand, she did need a friend, and Ana, with her flashing smile, kind eyes, and friendly, rambling speech was an ideal candidate. On the other hand, she was Jareth’s sister and would, therefore, have her first loyalty to him. Sarah hesitated, wondering how to politely send Ana packing, when she surprised Sarah and called out into the air. “Go away, Jareth. I may not have nearly your level of magic, but I can feel you spying in any case. Sarah and I need privacy, so, you know what to do with that crystal, Your Majesty.” So saying she then stuck her tongue out.

Peals of laughter rang around the garden as the Goblin King enjoyed his sister’s sass. “Call when you need to be transported back to the castle,” he said, and then his presence was gone.

Sarah stared wide eyed at this woman with the temerity to call out the Goblin King, liking her more all the time. She smiled warmly at Sarah. “Now, what can I do to help?” Ana asked gently.

“How much do you know about my predicament?” Sarah asked. Once she filled in the major gaps, she gazed at the lovely Fae woman with true fear in her eyes. “So, what are my options?” she begged softly.

“Well, there is much that is beyond your control, but some things can still be of your choosing. First off, I suppose you will have to decide whether to remain human or let nature take its course and become Fae.” 

Sarah shrugged. “What would you do?”

“That was a choice I was not allowed to make. I became Fae. I cannot say that I would undo it, though, even if I could.” Ana’s eyes danced with merriment. 

“You were human once?” Sarah gaped in surprise.

“Oh yes, many, many years ago.”

“So, Jareth was…?”

“No,” Ana interrupted. “We are half siblings. Jareth was like you, one fully Fae parent and one human with traces of Fae lineage. The Fae blood allowed him to become fully Fae, to wield powerful magic, to become a king. I am, and will only ever be, partly Fae. I will have the lifespan of a Fae, the health and energy, but I will never possess more than simple, rudimentary magic.” She smiled stoically. “Still, it’s far better than the life I would have had. I am grateful every day that Jareth made that choice for us.”

Sarah digested this. “What choice was that, exactly?”

“Why, he wished us to the Underground, wished us all away to the goblins when our mother died.” Ana was clearly surprised. “Jareth has not told you of how he came to be Goblin King?” she inquired hesitantly.

Sarah shook her head. “It hasn’t really come up. A lot of other stuff seems to keep getting in the way.”

Ana nodded. “I will tell you what I can, but much of it is Jareth’s story to tell. He will have to tell you the rest.”

At Sarah’s nod, she continued. “When our mother died, Jareth was twelve or perhaps thirteen Summers. That would be considered a child now, but not then. Jareth was already attached to a band of mercenaries and had just begun to rise through the ranks. Many would look at his lithe build and think he was unable to fight. Nothing could be further from the truth. He was used to people underestimating him, and he used it to his advantage. He was, and is, a skillful and deadly fighter.” Ana looked at Sarah keenly, her eyes haunted. “Pray you never see him in battle,” she whispered. 

At the look on Ana’s face, Sarah felt a tremor of true fear. Ana continued, looking far into the distance. “The mercenary band claimed us. They were planning to sell Brigid as a bed slave and leave me in the woods to die of exposure, as a babe is worthless to anyone.” At Sarah’s shocked gasp, Ana smiled a small, tight smile without any humor. “It’s the way things were then, Sarah. Anyway, Jareth got word of it. He confronted his captain, who was then in the process of trying to rape Brigid. She was nine….ten Summers at most.”

Sarah was biting her lip to keep from crying out. She tasted blood and ignored it.

“Although he knew better than to underestimate Jareth, the captain did so, and Jareth ran him through with his own sword. He then took Brigid and me, and we escaped into the forest. Alone, he could have easily eluded the rest of the mercenaries but not with a baby and an untrained girl. He refused to leave us but realized that it was a matter of time before they caught us and that meant death or enslavement for us all. So, he made the wish.”

Sarah was enraptured, her own problems completely forgotten. “What happened then?” she asked breathlessly.

Ana laughed lightly. “Well, contrary to the conclusion you reached, “become one of us forever” does not mean the Goblin King turns human babies into goblins. I helped Jareth write his Goblin King speech, you see. I’ve always had a bit of flair for the dramatic,” she said as she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and laughed. “It means that the children are placed with Fae families and raised as if they were natural children. I believe you call them adopted, yes?” Her eyes twinkled merrily. “One of nature’s cruel tricks. When one lives a very long time, one has very few offspring to prevent over population. Consequently, the Fae are desperate for children.”

“So, you were adopted by the Goblin King?” Sarah asked.

“Oh no,” she shuddered. “Jareth ran the labyrinth for the right to place Brigid and me into a family. He wanted to choose the best family he could for us.”

“Wow,” Sarah whispered.

Ana gave her an appraising look. “You have no idea. Jareth hasn’t told you, has he?” she inquired.

“Told me what?” Sarah replied, confused.

Ana nodded. “You didn’t really win, Sarah. You thought you defeated the labyrinth, defeated the Goblin King, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Sarah replied hotly. “Toby’s home right now because I won him back, even after Jareth threw the whole goblin army at me.”

Ana looked at her with a tinge of pity in her eyes. “Sarah, think about it for a moment. Do you really believe any mortal can defeat a Fae king who can re-order time, transport across worlds, and create matter from nothing?”

“But…,” Sarah paused, uncertainty in her eyes.

“You’ve seen firsthand the magic Jareth wields. If he truly wanted to stop you, do you think you would even be breathing right now?”

“Then what was the fucking point?” Sarah exclaimed, anger and realization warring in her mind.

Ana didn’t even flinch. “Sarah, the Fae love games, particularly games of skill and chance. Moreover, it is the role of the Goblin King to teach certain lessons to mortals in order to make them better caregivers to their precious, precious children. As I told you before, we adore children over anything else. To ease the boredom, the Goblin Kings tend to combine those aspects into the challenge. Have you read the oath of the Goblin King?”

Sarah shook her head.

“It’s posted in the library under glass with Jareth’s signature on it, as it contains the signature, in blood, of every Goblin King to take the oath. Among other things, it requires the Goblin King to take any child that has been wished away by his rightful caregiver, and should that caregiver choose to run the maze for the return of the child, the Goblin King must devise and implement a test to teach the runner each lesson he or she needs to learn. The oath allows for a certain amount of interpretation. So, the labyrinth wasn’t nearly so brutal, and you were never in any real danger, which was not the case when Jareth ran it.”

Sarah opened her mouth to object.

“No, Sarah. You were never in any real danger.”

“At the very least, I was in danger of losing Toby.”

Again Ana shook her head. “No, as long as the runner learns the lessons and doesn’t give up on the child, Jareth considers that a ‘win’ and gives the child back. Jareth expects to lose when the runner elects the labyrinth. The goal for him is to ensure the child is with a caretaker who will parent it responsibly. The previous Goblin King was vicious, and I suspect not completely sane. Jareth still bears the scars of his ordeal. If you become Fae, you will see beyond his glamour. Jareth barely survived the ordeal of the labyrinth and only because the old King was impressed and saw a potential heir. By the way, if Danu is generous, it will be many long years before you ever see the true goblin army. There is a reason ancient humans feared goblins before modern illustrations made them ‘cute’.”

Ana then broke the somber mood. “So, I guess, in answer to your original question, I would become Fae.” she smiled. “Have you tasted the food yet?” Ana asked conspiratorially. At Sarah’s nod, she inquired, “And yet you’ve never seen a fat Fae, have you?” she laughed. “It’s worth it just for that! And for the nifty eyebrows,” she added while arching one of her own and grinning.

They continued to chat about lighthearted topics until a small crystal arrived just as the sun reached its highest point in the sky. The champagne colored crystal grew to a hugely disproportionate size, finally popping and leaving a large picnic basket in its place between the two women. “Fabulous,” exclaimed Ana. “I’m starving. Of course, I’m always starving lately,” she laughed as she smoothed her gown over her stomach to reveal a small baby bulge that had previously been concealed by the high-waisted gown. 

“Congratulations,” Sarah replied and Ana beamed. The rest of the afternoon was taken up with Ana answering questions about her own married life and life in the Underground in general until Sarah felt as if she were on information overload. With promises to visit again soon, Ana called for transport to the castle, while Sarah, determined to walk back, struck out on her own.

And promptly realized that her sense of direction in the labyrinth was still very poor. At the second crossroads, she had just determined that she would go right when a gentle tug on her left forearm pulled her unerringly toward the left path. She looked up, startled to see the Goblin King, immaculate in a black ensemble that was so deep it took on overtones of blue. She glanced at her grubby jeans and blouse that she had found shoved into the back of the closet that morning and just shrugged. He held out his arm to her, as any gentleman should, and waited. It was her decision. Hesitating noticeably, she took his arm and allowed him to lead her through the labyrinth. The silence stretched, not uncomfortable, but pregnant with possibilities, truths that needed to be given form and substance.


	11. 11

Chapter 11

As they reached the castle, Jareth began leading her toward the dining hall. At that point Sarah began to pull away. “I should change,” she murmured, glancing at his immaculate ensemble.

He eyed her speculatively; as Queen, Sarah really needed to learn a stricter sense of decorum. She should never be seen in such grimy, ridiculous clothes. But, at least, she was beginning to realize her faux pas. He would acknowledge that recognition but not make her too comfortable in the process. With a gesture, Jareth changed into what Sarah thought of as his everyday clothes and turned to lead her down the hallway to the left. “Meep,” he called. “Dinner shall be served in the conservatory again tonight.”

Despite the informal attire, Jareth seated her at the small table near the lilac tree as if she were wearing the most regal of ball gowns. Meep wheeled in a laden dinner cart, and the Goblin King merely nodded and dismissed the tiny creature with a wave. 

“So, Sarah, have you made any decisions yet?”

Sarah chewed slowly, using the time to double check her feelings. She felt certain. “I want to become Fae,” she announced slowly.

Jareth nodded. He most definitely approved. “Anything else?”

“My family,” Sarah began, “I want…I want to tell them the truth,” she murmured on a small sigh. 

Jareth raised an eyebrow in response. “Sarah, mortals, in general, have a great deal of trouble accepting…”

“I know,” Sarah interrupted, but feeling she had to get through this before she lost her nerve, she rushed on. “But…if this claiming thing is permanent, then I’m gonna be living here. And, if I become Fae, I won’t age, at least not at the same rate they will. Every time they see me, I’ll look the same. If I lie now, I’m gonna have to keep lying to them their entire lives, faking or glamouring to look older, lying to them about where I’m living, what I’m doing. Then, at some point, if I do tell them the truth, they’ll be hurt that I lied to them from the start. And if I never tell them, then my entire relationship with them will forever be based on lies. It won’t be real. Can’t you understand? I feel like I owe them the respect of being honest, even if it is kind of shocking to them. If they still want to have a relationship with me, despite the craziness of all of this,” and here she raised her arms and gestured around her, “then they do it because they know and want to, not because of a bunch of lies.”

Jareth nodded. “I will arrange to have them brought here tomorrow,” he promised.

“Shouldn’t…shouldn’t we go there?” Sarah asked, concerned. “I mean won’t they feel more…secure…at home?”

“Probably, but it will interrupt your transition to Fae, and you may need,” and here he waved his hand in an imitation of Sarah’s prior gesture, “all of this, to convince them you aren’t destined for the asylum.” He grinned.

Sarah had to admit that he had a point. If anything would convince them of the truth, then a visit to the Goblin Kingdom should suffice.

“Have you given any thought to your education?” he interrupted her musings.

“Well, since I can’t go back home to finish out the school year, the Fae thing and all, I suppose a tutor would be the best solution. I can’t just spend my days wandering around and accomplishing nothing, and I will need to know something of this place, I suppose.”

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Jareth stated, his gaze pinning her. “I must say, the maturity you have demonstrated of late is most appreciated, a bit…shall we say unexpected, but welcome nevertheless.”

Sarah felt her face heat at the backhanded compliment as her anger surged. “I’m simply making the best of a bad situation. Don’t think for one second that I’ve settled in and that I’m not gonna continue to try to find a way out of this mess. In fact, before you bring my dad and Karen, I want to talk to a lawyer, or whatever they call them down here. If there is any way out of this contract, I want to know.” She sighed as the anger began to drain as suddenly as it had come. “It’s not that I think you’re lying, since Fae can’t lie, but there could be a loophole, something …,” Sarah trailed off.

Jareth smirked. He did so enjoy it when Sarah was in a snit. “I’ll be making similar arrangements, myself. Your dear mother has threatened to take the matter to the High Fae Council.”

“Can she get them to void the contract?” Sarah asked, a glimmer of hope beginning to burn.

“It would be unprecedented, but Fae are…capricious creatures, and I want to be as certain as possible that should it go that far, I will win.” The Goblin King smiled a cold, cruel smile.

“Couldn’t you just let her win…let them void the contract?” Sarah asked, surprised anticipation coloring her voice.

“Of course not!” exclaimed the Goblin King in surprise. “Why ever would I do that?”

“Because I could go home,” Sarah pleaded. “Just let me go.”

“No,” Jareth denied flatly. “Not now…not ever. You do not understand right now, but you will, very soon.” He gave that cold, cruel laugh again, and Sarah shivered. “And so will Lindell. I can’t wait until that comes out in front of the High Fae Court.”

At that moment, Sarah realized that the cunning Goblin King had some kind of ace up his sleeve that would shift the balance of power in his favor. But he was playing his hand very close to the vest.

Alarmed, Sarah fixed him with a hard stare. “What are you up to, Goblin King?”

“Oh, Precious,” he laughed merrily, “wouldn’t you like to know?” Still laughing he vanished in a cloud of glitter.


	12. 12

Chapter 12

Sarah stood up from the table, feeling a headache throb behind her eyes and a dull ache low in her spine. “Fabulous,” she muttered to herself, “Just fabulous. PMS. I’ll probably start tomorrow. I’ve got two days, tops. This week just keeps getting better and better,” she sighed.

Not long after she left the conservatory, she found herself in the library. As she perused the books, she became more and more frustrated as she realized that nothing was written in a language she could read. Giving up on the books, she began to peruse the art and pictures in the room, eventually stopping in front of a glass framed document bearing several signatures at the bottom. Realizing that this must be the Oath of the Goblin King that Ana had mentioned, Sarah looked at it more closely. “Damn,” she muttered. “I wish this stuff was written in a language I could read!” 

Instantly, words, letters, ink all began to shift and everything was suddenly in completely intelligible English. Sarah gasped, surprised but pleased. It must be the castle’s magic, she mused. She read the oath; it was pretty much exactly what Ana said it was. She then wandered over to pick up a book, A Brief History of the Underground, and began to read. About three pages in she decided it should be called A Dry and Boring History of the Underground, but she struggled to continue, eventually falling asleep with the large tome in her lap.

She awoke in a long, cotton nightgown in the Goblin King’s bed with the Goblin King himself spooned up behind her. 

How the hell did this keep happening, Sarah’s mind shrieked. 

I should be in the library, freezing to death with a crick in my neck, she mused. As soon as she tried to slip free, she felt the Goblin King’s arm tighten around her waist. 

“Good morning, Precious,” he purred into her hair.

Sarah jumped and tried to push his arm off of her. “I want my own bedroom,” Sarah blurted.

The Goblin King’s arm tightened a little more and was accompanied by a firm, “No.”

Sarah struggled harder, and with a sigh, the Goblin King released her. She jumped out of bed and whirled to face him, immediately aware that her feet were bare and now in direct contact with the freezing floor. “What do you mean, no?” Sarah demanded. “No negotiation, no compromise, no nothing…just no?”

Jareth propped himself up on one elbow to stare at her. “Sarah, get back into bed. It’s very early, and you’re clearly freezing.”

Sarah shook her head stubbornly and continued to glare. “I want my own bedroom,” she repeated.

“No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you are my claimed mate, and it is the death knell of any marriage when separate bedrooms are involved.” Saying that, he leaned forward and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back into bed until he was once again spooning her. Sarah screamed wordlessly in frustration.

“Hush,” he commanded harshly. Sarah stilled, startled. “Bend your knees,” he demanded. She did so and he hissed as her icy feet came into contact with his warm thighs. “Now, lie still,” he commanded as he wrapped her into his arms and held her tightly.

Sarah bit her lip as her thoughts chased around her head like they were riding a very fast merry-go-round. She had to get her own bedroom ASAP. She was starting to like waking up against the Goblin King entirely too much. As she warmed, a languorous drowsiness spread through her, and Sarah gave in to the pull of sleep, falling into a deep, dreamless doze in the gentle embrace of the Goblin King. When she awoke, she found herself alone. For approximately fifteen seconds. It was then, as she rolled over, that she spied the bulbous nose and slightly bulging eyes of Marna, the lady’s maid, peering intently over the edge of the bed, directly into Sarah’s startled eyes. “Morning, Highness,” she announced in a high voice that was, in Sarah’s opinion, entirely too chipper. As Sarah pressed her fingertips to her still racing heart, Marna continued in her rambling voice, “His Majesty has sent me to fetch you to breakfast. You has an appointment with a solicitor at 9:30 sharp.” As she said that, Marna disappeared into the en suite, and Sarah heard water running in the bath.

“Wait,” Sarah called as she scrambled out of bed. “I’ll take a shower; it’s faster.”

After she had showered and dressed in another version of her princess dress, [The closet was full of them, in various colors; she had privately begun to refer to them as the knockoff collection.] this one a deep emerald green, Sarah fairly flew down the stairs to find Jareth waiting for her in his study with a light breakfast already set for two. At her appearance, he set down the papers he was reading and joined her on the sofa, taking a plate and handing her one as well. Sarah was entirely too nervous to eat. If things went the way she hoped, she would be going home today. The Goblin King glared at her empty plate, clearly not relishing another possible episode of vertigo. Sarah sighed and took a piece of toast and some fruit that looked like mango. 

“Sleep well?” he asked with a slight smirk.

She flushed and nodded.

“You look quite nice, by the way.”

Sarah looked up sharply for a hint of mockery, but finding none, she realized the compliment was sincere. “Thank you,” she stammered. “Uhmm…when are we leaving?”

“Anxious to go, Precious?” he grinned.

“Yes, actually I am,” Sarah replied coolly, meeting his gaze.

“So be it then.” He stood and gestured for her to come to him. Sarah realized that he meant to transport them and that meant he would be holding her to his lithe body. 

“Don’t you have horses here, or something?”

“Of course, but the solicitor’s office is on the far south side of the kingdom and we haven’t the time. Do you have a particular objection to this mode of travel?” he inquired smoothly.

“It makes me queasy,” Sarah muttered, not meeting his eyes.

The Goblin King grinned broadly, recognizing her lie for what it was, as he wrapped his arms more tightly than necessary around his wife and transported them both to the solicitor’s office.

It looked, Sarah mused, almost exactly like her father’s office. All lawyer’s offices probably looked pretty much the same—lots of dusty law books on shelves, filing cabinets, likely full of court pleadings and case files, and a large desk strewn with papers. The lawyer, errr…solicitor, Sarah corrected in her head, looked very like Jareth. He was clearly Fae, with that otherworldly, ethereal beauty, but his eyes were somehow old. How old, she did not know, but he clearly had Jareth’s respect.

“The Dowager Summer Queen highly recommended you,” Jareth stated as the two Fae acknowledged one another.

“She is a fine lady,” replied the solicitor. “I take it this is your bride, as announced by the claiming banns?” 

“She is,” Jareth agreed. 

Tieran then turned to Sarah. “I am Tieran, Your Highness.” He bowed slightly. “I understand that you have some legal questions for me.”

Sarah nodded. “I do, but first, tell me who you represent, me or Jareth.”

“I do not understand.” The Fae solicitor looked truly confused. 

Jareth, who had more frequent dealings in the Above, understood completely. “Sarah, under Fae law a bonded couple is one entity. He could no more deceive you than he could me. He will be absolutely and fully honest with both of us. You need not fear that he represents my interests above yours.”

As understanding came, Tieran nodded. “Yes, that is correct. It would be completely unethical of me to provide you with any less than my best legal advice.”

Sarah nodded and chewed her lip. “Have you read the…claiming contract?”

“Yes.”

“Is there any way to undo it?” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course there is—mutual consent of the parties can void any contract.”

Hope gleamed in Sarah’s eyes.

“No,” stated Jareth flatly.

“Your majesty, if she is not willing, you know very well that the High Fae Council will likely nullify the contract on its own.”

“I am aware,” stated Jareth evenly, “which is why I invoked the Faelium.”

Tieran gasped and his eyes went wide as he turned an unfocused gaze toward Sarah. Sarah was beginning to recognize that slightly foggy stare as one Fae and other magical creatures used when sensing magic. “By Danu,” he whispered. “You claimed her by an ancient Fae law that hasn’t been invoked in a millennia.”

“I claimed her by right of contract and by the Faelium.” Jareth corrected.

“What does that mean?” Sarah interrupted, her concern growing and her stomach becoming queasy.

Tieran turned a shocked gaze to the Goblin King. “She does not know?” he rasped.

Jareth shrugged, leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles. “I thought I’d leave that to the legal professionals.”

Tieran pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at Sarah. “Traditionally, My Queen, Fae marriages are accomplished by contract or via a ceremony called a handfasting, which is similar to an Above marriage ceremony. Contractual unions can be nullified by consent of the parties, usually the parents, or by the High Fae Council should one of the betrothed strongly object to the union. Handfastings can be annulled or a divorce granted for any number of reasons. However, under ancient Fae law should a virgin offer her, or him, self to a Fae without expressly stating that she will not be claimed, the other partner could invoke the Faelium and use his or her magic to claim the other as mate. Such a claiming is binding, until death and whatever lies beyond.”

Sarah stared in stark horror, all of her hopes dashed.

Tieran then turned to the Goblin King. “What were you thinking, Highness? The Council will go into an apoplectic rage when this comes out. It’s one thing to claim another Fae, but to claim a mortal who had no knowledge of the Faelium….it’s…it’s unheard of. I have always known your reputation to be…ethical…to the letter, but this…” he trailed off in utter shock.

“The Tymbath Accords…,” began Jareth.

“Yes, yes,” Tieran waved his hand dismissively. “Negotiated in 383 AD with the humans in what is now Ireland…it specifically allows a Fae to use the Faelium with a human. However, it is doubtful more than a handful of human scholars even know of the Tymbath Accords, and those that do regard them as sheer myth.” He sighed again. “And so I ask again, whatever possessed you, Your Highness, to invoke the Faelium? Surely you knew that, as the humans say, all hell was going to break loose when this came to light.”

“I had my reasons,” Jareth replied stubbornly, his eyes flashing at the implied rebuke from Tieran.

“That’s not good enough,” replied the barrister just as stubbornly.

Sarah gasped slightly as the two Fae faced off. The Goblin King was enraged. Although his face was impassive, the taut body language and the clenching of his jaw gave away his mental state.

The solicitor recognized it as well. “My Lord,” he began, “I’m sorry but I cannot ethically represent you unless you are wholly and completely honest with me, no reputable solicitor can. If you refuse to inform me of all,” and Sarah noticed his stress on the word all, “of the facts, you will have to seek representation elsewhere with another solicitor.”

Jareth sighed and cast a sideways glance at Sarah. 

Tieran caught the look. “Anything you disclose to me, I must divulge to her as well. You,..." and he gestured to them both, “by the claiming laws, are one legal entity,” he reiterated.

Jareth had suspected this outcome, but had hoped to intimidate the solicitor. With grudging respect for the other Fae’s sense of ethics and honor, he conjured a crystal and handed it to Tieran with a glance at Sarah. “I had hoped to spare her…,” he said as he shrugged.

Sarah felt an icy stab of fear go through her. Oh this was just wonderful…another piece of information that had been kept from her.

As the solicitor folded his hand around the crystal, it became a scroll, similar in size to the claiming contract but this one was tied securely with a black ribbon. With an efficient twist of his hand, the Fae lawyer undid the ribbon, spread out the scroll and began to read. He read it through three times before raising his face. His normally pearly silver Fae complexion had faded to ashen white. “By Danu,” he whispered, “how could she?”

“I don’t know,” the Goblin King replied on a tired sigh.

“This is real?” questioned Tieran.

“An authentic copy,” affirmed the Goblin King.

“And how, if I may ask, did you come by this?”

“Do you really need to know?” inquired Jareth in a tone that clearly implied that the solicitor was better off not knowing.

“No, as long as it is authentic, her credibility can be impeached, and being Fae, she will not be able to lie.”

Jareth nodded. “So, what do you think now?”

Tieran paused. “I think any Fae with a modicum of honor would have done the same,” he replied at last. “Oh yes, this more than justifies you invoking the Faelium.”

“Let me see,” Sarah’s demand cut through the tension in the room like a sharp knife.

Tieran’s hand tightened noticeably on the scroll. He did not want to give it to her. That act alone, after his insistence that Sarah receive full disclosure, frightened her more than anything else had. Tieran glanced quickly at Jareth, clearly hoping the Goblin monarch had some way to dissuade Sarah from this rash act. “Give it to her,” Jareth commanded. “She will have to be told, and now is as good of a time as any.”

Tieran held the scroll out to her, and lest he change his mind, Sarah snatched it quickly. Taking a deep breath, she began to read. Like the claiming contract, this one was also short and to the point. Sarah read it a second time, and then a third. NO, her mind screamed, it can’t be true. But the simple words could not be undone. Linda Williams, aka the Lady Lindell, had sold her daughter a second time.

“What exactly does this mean?” Sarah demanded. “I’m no lawyer, but even I know you can’t sell the same goods twice. Isn’t this contract null and void?”

“No, Highness, it is completely enforceable.” Tieran sighed regretfully. “When your mother entered into the contract with King Jareth, they created what is commonly known as an option contract. He had the option to claim you until your eighteenth birthday. Unless he exercised that option prior to you turning eighteen, then all rights to claim you would cease to exist. This contract gives the Troll King, Erlinwar, the right to claim you as either wife or bed slave for his son, Erlinwold, between your eighteenth and twenty-first birthdays if King Jareth refused to claim you.”

Sarah’s mind reeled. She had been so right about her mother. Finding that sheer talent wasn’t enough to make her the huge star that she felt she deserved to be, Linda had sought out another magically powerful king and made sure she bargained for the luck and opportunities that would ensure superstardom. “So, she could have sold me a third time?” The anguish in Sarah’s voice was clear.

“Given the age limits in the contract, I’d say it was likely,” Tieran agreed.

Sarah shook her head numbly. “But why,” Sarah asked, “why a permanent claiming?”

“As you said, My Queen, we have no way of knowing how many times she sold you,” Tieran responded sympathetically.

Sarah looked at Jareth, his face impassive. She was sure there was something else, something he wasn’t telling. She was also certain that she couldn’t handle anymore right now. She blinked hard as she left the solicitor’s office and was accosted by the bright sunlight. She desperately needed the fresh air. She waited outside as the two Fae set their next appointment and made their goodbyes. It was all she could do to simply breathe. 

As Jareth emerged, she struggled to keep the whine out of her voice. “Take me to Ana’s?” she asked.

Jareth regarded her, a hint of a sad smile on his face. “I will, but we have one more piece of unfinished business first.” At Sarah’s questioning gaze, he replied, “Your parents,” with a touch of resigned loathing in his voice.

Oh God, how could she have forgotten? She nodded. “I suppose you’ll go fetch them after you take me back?”

“Oh no,” he replied merrily, a mischievous grin lighting his face. “I sent the goblins for them as soon as we left this morning. They’re already there, Precious.” At that he burst into laughter, as sheer terror crawled up Sarah’s spine.


	13. 13

Chapter 13

“Oh my God no!” Sarah shouted in horror. Half of her sentence beginning on a cobblestone street in the southern portion of the Goblin Kingdom and ending in the throne room of the Goblin Castle. It was chaos, utter and complete chaos. Robert and Karen Williams were bound to chairs with massive quantities of duct tape, haphazardly wrapped around their bodies until only their eyes and mouths were clearly visible. On top of that, and Sarah was unsure if these had been added as an extra anti-escape measure or just to decorate their captives, the goblins had applied anything else they could find that would stick--reams of plastic containing printed nonsense words from her father’s label maker, Karen’s false eyelashes, an entire box of Kotex mini-pads, and all of Toby’s Tickle Me Elmo band-aids. 

The goblins were hysterically chasing each other and two black, screeching chickens around the throne room, at least the ones who were not swinging from the rafters shooting anything that moved with whipped cream, spray cheese, and dishwashing detergent. And a couple of the goblins had taken it upon themselves to try to ‘entertain’ her parents. One was playing, badly, an instrument that resembled a ukulele, and two others were attempting to sing…aka shriek… a harmony, in at least five different keys, making up lyrics as they went along. 

She turned to Jareth for help only to find him collapsed on his throne laughing, clutching at his sides as if they were going to split.

”Fix this!” she shouted at him to be heard over the roar. Both her father and Karen looked as if they might pass out at any moment.

He only laughed harder. “You’re the Goblin Queen, and they’re your parents,” he chortled. “You fix it!”

Sarah had had it. Enough was enough. Days of pent up rage boiled over and erupted in that moment.

“QUIET!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Or I’ll Bog every single one of you.”

That got their attention. It was suddenly so quiet that it hurt the eardrums to hear it. “You three,” she pointed to three of the more competent goblins, coincidentally the ones who had been trying to entertain her parents, “You three will get every last smidgen of tape off of my parents, without so much as leaving a mark on them, or I’ll find something worse than the Bog for you. Got it?” Three little heads nodded in the affirmative as six knobby little knees knocked together.

“Queenie mad,” one of the smaller goblins sidled up and whispered to the Goblin King, who nodded in agreement. Jareth pressed his lips together and crossed his arms, an impassive mask over the smirk he was trying to conceal, anxious to see just how Sarah planned to deal with this. 

“Yes, she is,” Sarah replied to the tiny goblin sitting next to Jareth’s left boot. But she wasn’t finished. “You five,” she pointed at the next group who had been swinging on the rafters, “get this trash out of here, all of it.” 

“Including the chickens?” asked one of the stupider goblins.

“Yes, including the chickens!”

“You six,” she pointed at the remaining goblins, “get mops, buckets and cleaning supplies. I want everything in here washed and washed thoroughly. If I find one speck of grime anywhere…” Sarah left the threat hanging. Probably, in retrospect, it wasn’t the wisest thing to leave an implied threat hanging in the air.

“What?…” inquired one of the really stupid goblins.

Sarah pointed her finger at him as her temper boiled over. ZAP. A small jet of blue white electrical energy erupted from her fingertip and seared the unlucky goblin directly in his unmentionables. The resultant squeal of pain sent the goblins into a flurry of activity to carry out Sarah’s orders as uncontrolled chaos erupted in the throne room once again. Sarah, herself, gasped and looked at her traitorous hand, confused. She looked up briefly as she felt Jareth wrap his arm around her, and then they were standing in his study.

“I’m impressed, Precious,” he grinned wickedly.

“I…I don’t understand,” Sarah faltered.

“When I saw that the volumes in my library were no longer written in High Fae, I suspected you had begun to develop some strong wish magic, but to demonstrate offensive magic so soon….” He beamed a mischievous smile. “And zapping Sprog,” he laughed uproariously as he collapsed bonelessly into the chair behind his desk. Still laughing, he reached into his desk and pulled out a long, slim box and handed it to Sarah. “Here,” he said with a smile. “You’ll need these from now on.”

Sarah opened the box hesitantly, keenly remembering a snake that turned into a scarf. Inside she found a pair of feminine black leather gloves. She looked at the Goblin King questioningly. 

“Dragonhide.” he stated flatly. “Fae magic is tied to our emotions. Until you learn control, the dragonhide leather will block the emotional magic outbursts. Only when you demonstrate the clear intent to push the magic beyond the glove, will it take form and substance.”

She nodded to his hands. “So, I’ll have to wear them forever?”

“No, but it will take years for you to gain full control. Most Fae wear the gloves for long enough that it makes one feel naked to be without them. On the other hand, some magic requires skin to skin contact, like healing magic, and cannot be done through gloves.”

She pulled on the tight gloves, admiring their suppleness and beauty. “Feels funny,” Sarah murmured. 

“This changes things,” Jareth murmured as he studied her. At her quizzical look, he replied, “in addition to basic tutoring in history, politics and such, we are going to have to get you a magical tutor as well. You will need to begin practicing control of your magic right away.”

Sarah nodded, feeling the bulk of the gloves on her fingers. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt anyone. Will Sprog be okay?”

The Goblin King waved his hand negligently. “He’ll be fine. Goblins are, for all practical purposes, nearly indestructible. It keeps things interesting.” He rose languorously from his chair and offered Sarah his arm. “Shall we go see how your parents are faring?”

Robert and Karen Williams still sat in their chairs, although nearly all of the duct tape and other assorted stickies had been efficiently peeled away by tiny, nimble fingers, as the three goblins continued to work. The Williams’ were simply too scared to move. All of the trash had been removed, and the remaining goblins were in the process of mopping the floor as Sarah and Jareth entered the throne room. Instantly the work level decreased by 50% as the remaining goblins devoted half of their attention to work and the other half to protecting their unmentionables as Sarah came into view. Laughing, Jareth dismissed them with a wave, and as a hastily conjured crystal exploded glitter over the throne room, the rest of the room and Sarah’s parents were put to rights, immaculate once more.

Robert Williams was the first to speak. As he stood on unsteady legs that had been duct taped to a chair for hours, his voice rasped out the question Sarah had known was coming, “What the hell is going on?”

Sarah winced and looked toward Jareth for some clue as to how to begin. He was lounging on his throne, one leg thrown over the side tapping his riding crop against his boot heel, chin propped in his other hand as he continued to watch Sarah expectantly. He shrugged nonchalantly. “This is your show, Precious.” 

He laughed again as she glared at him. Looking back to her father and step-mother, she sighed. “Uhmmm…, maybe we should all get some lunch. You must be hungry and thirsty. Follow me.”

Sarah led the way to the dining hall, her parents following woodenly behind and Jareth bringing up the rear. He hadn’t stopped smiling since they had arrived in the throne room. These mortals were promising to be the most entertaining of sport. Perhaps he’d let the goblins have another go at them later. 

After calling for Meep, who wheeled in a laden lunch cart, Sarah sat across from her parents not knowing how to begin. First things first. “Dad, Karen, this is Jareth, the Goblin King.”

They looked at Jareth cautiously, still not sure what to make of him. One thing was very certain, and Robert was unsure how much his naïve daughter realized, but this creature, Goblin King or whatever he was, was very, very dangerous. Sarah pushed on. “He’s not just the Goblin King. He’s…my…,” Sarah faltered, unable to meet her father’s probing eyes. Deep breath. “He’s my…husband,” Sarah finished in a rush. Her father looked stricken. Karen dropped her teacup which splintered into shards. The Goblin King “Tsk’d” and made a slight backwards turning gesture with his hand; the broken teacup spun, repairing itself with not a drop of spilled liquid. Karen gasped.

“Uhmmm, …oh yeah,” Sarah continued, “magic is real.”

“This is insane,” Robert thundered, jumping up from his seat to lean across the table to shout. “Have you lost your mind, Sarah?”

Sarah flinched back at the force of her father’s anger.

Suddenly every dish on the table jumped as the Goblin King’s fist slammed the table. “Sit down, mortal,” his voice hissed a lethal note. “I can assure you that my wife is quite sane, and if you need a demonstration of exactly how real magic is, I would be pleased to provide one. It was out of respect that Sarah wished to tell you the truth; remember that.” The Goblin King’s voice was pure ice. “Now, apologize to my wife, and do not raise your voice to her again. She is the Goblin Queen and will be treated with due respect.”

Robert Williams blanched visibly. “I’m sorry, Sarah. This just sounds too…unbelievable…for words. I don’t know what’s been going on, but to us you’ve been gone for a weekend on a camping trip.” He looked confused as if the reality of that version of events was wavering in his mind. 

“I know,” Sarah sighed. “I’ll tell you everything, okay? Just try not to interrupt. This is gonna be hard enough as it is.”

Afterwards, Robert and Karen sat stunned. Robert wanted to see the contracts immediately, his inner attorney shining through, but Karen had been noticeably cold and closed off as soon as she had heard that Sarah had wished Toby away. 

“Meep,” Sarah called, as soon as Jareth had left to transport her dad and Karen back to the Above. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna go lay down. Please make sure I’m not disturbed, okay?”

At Meep’s nod, she muttered her thanks and went to deal with the hormone induced headache and the cramps, her monthly harbingers of doom. After rolling up a washcloth to substitute for a maxi pad and laying a doubled over towel on the bed, just in case, she laid down and tried to get some rest in between bouts of cramping. For the tenth time she cursed her own lack of focus. Had she been thinking, she would have asked Jareth to bring her Midol and a box of maxi pads back with him. Now, there was nothing to do but ride it out.


	14. 14

Chapter 14

“Where is the Queen?” Jareth asked, his eyes narrowed. He had been seated at the dinner table for almost fifteen minutes, and there was still no sign of Sarah.

“Queen said not to disturb…not feeling well,” replied Meep, wringing his small hands at the look of irritation in his king’s eyes.

Jareth rose fluidly, storming from the room. If Sarah was in some sort of childish snit, he would soon disabuse her of any notion that her antics would get her what she wanted, he mused, as he took the stairs two at a time. As he rounded the corner of the hallway to their bedroom, he nearly collided with Marna, who was returning an untouched tray of food to the kitchen.

“Begging your pardon, sire,” she said on a startled, breathless note. 

Jareth nodded and perused the untouched tray before entering the bedroom. The blinds were drawn, and it was nearly black as pitch in the room despite the faint, pale light of the last vestiges of sunset that peeped around the edges of the curtains. Sarah was lying on her side, still fully clothed, with her arms wrapped around herself. She appeared to be in a light doze. 

“Sarah, if this is some sort of childish temper tantrum because of your parents…,” he began.  
Sarah came awake with a start, cursing the Goblin King, as sleep was the only respite from the pain. She let out a low groan and clutched her abdomen as another wave of cramping rolled through her. 

Jareth paused, his shrewd eyes noting the clear signs of pain and his heightened Fae senses smelling the blood.

“Are you injured, Sarah?” his concern evident in his voice.

Sarah let out another groan, her face heating. Oh God, was she going to have to explain menses, menstrual cramps to a Fae Goblin King?

“Sire,” a tiny voice broke the stillness. Jareth glanced down to see Marna had returned. “Tis her moon blood,” the little dwarf whispered, trying to disturb Sarah as little as possible.

Well, that explained things clearly. Jareth had not so fond memories of his mother and sisters dealing with the same affliction, and he began to quietly back out of the room when Sarah let out another stifled groan. He sighed. He knew he was going to regret this.

“Sarah, what do you need? What will help this…problem?” he inquired evenly.

“Midol,” Sarah stated loudly. “I want Midol.”

Jareth sighed at her childishness and stifled a harsh retort. He had asked, after all. “Very well, which one?”

Sarah rolled over to give him an incredulous look.

“Well? The brown fuzzy one or the one in the music box?”

Sarah looked at him as if he were insane, comprehension dawning slowly in her eyes, as she gritted her teeth and spoke slowly and clearly in a harsh whisper, in a voice clearly dripping with sarcasm, the tone one reserved for complete fools. “Not a doll, you big, glittering idiot. Midol, M-I-D-O-L, it’s a pain killer,…you know, in a bottle?” So saying, she flipped quickly back over, turning her back to an enraged Goblin King. 

Jareth clamped his jaw so tightly his teeth ground together as he struggled to keep his anger in check. At that moment, he felt small hands grasp his right knee tightly, and he looked down to see Marna had placed her hands on his person, and her eyes were clearly begging. “Please Your Majesty,” she whispered so low that he doubted Sarah could hear, “please, she’s in terrible pain. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

He very much doubted that, but nodded anyway. A part of him appreciated the loyalty of the little lady’s maid to her mistress. “Send Meep Above to an Apothecary; tell him to get her this Midol and whatever human females use to sanitize the…process.”

Marna nodded, and he shut the door quietly after her. He regarded Sarah; he would have words with her later about the appropriate ways to address him, and “big, glittering idiot” was certainly not one of them. He removed his gloves and sat down behind her, reaching around to place one hand on the flat of her abdomen and the other at her low back. He began working his hands underneath her shirt.

Sarah gasped and tried to pull away. He pulled her back easily, his hands sliding along her smooth skin. She felt it then, the same numb, creeping lassitude she had felt before when he pressed his hands against her aching head. She could feel it; this was more somehow. The magic was stronger, more concentrated, making her completely numb, her limbs far too heavy to move for a long moment, before she fell into a deep, dark sleep.

Sarah awoke, her mouth cottony and head woozy, with a general sense that a great deal of time had passed. She laid still for a moment, trying to get her bearings, noticing what appeared to be nearly a dozen bottles of Midol on the night stand. Peering over the edge of the bed, she spied a small mountain of sanitary supplies, boxes of tampons, mini-pads, and maxi pads in a dozen different brand names lay jumbled in a moderate sized heap, in no particular order.

“Good, Queen is awake,” said the ever cheerful Marna, as she peered closely at Sarah. “King sent me to fetch you for lunch, if you was awake. King invited your friends to lunch today. Thought you might like to see them, you see.” She beamed happily.

“What time is it?” Sarah asked groggily while attempting to sit up.

“Almost lunchtime.” Marna repeated, a hint of confusion in her eyes. She was beginning to become concerned that the Queen wasn’t very bright.

Sarah bit her lip and rephrased her question. “How long have I been asleep?” she asked as she stumbled toward the shower.

“Nearly sixteen hours,” replied Marna.

Sarah gasped and grabbed the door casing at the entrance to the bathroom. Sixteen hours. She stumbled into the shower. She’d lost the entire night and half a day. Ten minutes later she was dressed, had taken a couple of Midol, even though the worst of it seemed to be over, and was headed toward the dining room for lunch. Sixteen hours. She had some right words for the Goblin King.

Sarah literally stormed into the dining room, making a beeline for Jareth who was currently seated at the head of the table. So intent was she on her quarry, Sarah failed to see Sir Didymus and Hoggle seated near the opposite end of the table. 

Before Jareth could rise, as genteel custom dictated, Sarah had reached the head of the table and was leaning forward, her hands braced on the table. “Just where do you get off?” she hissed.

This was clearly not the grateful Queen that Jareth had anticipated, and his jaw tightened as anger flared in his eyes. He had taken her demeaning ire, undeserved as it was, gotten her the Midol she had requested along with the other necessaries, taken away her pain and discomfort, and granted her a deep, healing sleep. Sarah pushed recklessly ahead, regardless of Jareth‘s mounting anger.

“You used magic against me…again!” Sarah shouted. “You practically roofied me. I’ve been completely unconscious, defenseless…”

“Silence!” Jareth shouted.

Sarah opened her mouth to shout over him when he slammed his fist into the table hard enough to overturn some of the dishes. “Is this the thanks I get for trying to help you?” he inquired icily.

“Gratitude? You expected gratitude for drugging me against my will?” she cried, unbelieving.

“You would have preferred the pain?” he shouted back, standing so quickly his chair overturned. “That can be arranged,” he yelled before slamming the door on his way out of the dining room.

Hoggle cleared his throat, and Sarah whirled around, coloring, as she realized the spectacle that her friends had inadvertently witnessed.

“My Lady,” began Sir Didymus, “Please sit down and calm yourself,” said the gallant little knight, as he leapt gracefully to his feet and pulled out a chair for Sarah. “Why don’t you tell us what’s bothering you, and perhaps we can help.”

Sarah sat down and proceeded to fill them in on the events of the past few days. When she was finished, Hoggle and Sir Didymus eyed each other, both clearly uncomfortable.

“Well, what do you think?” asked Sarah, her expression clearly expecting unwavering support.

The two magical creatures again exchanged that odd, sidelong glance. “My Lady, I would have done the same if it were my wife suffering. No one of character would see another suffer and do nothing,” said Didymus, clearly crestfallen in his lack of support. 

“Hoggle?” Sarah inquired hopefully. Hoggle looked away, sighed, and finally muttered, “What he said,” as he jerked his head toward Sir Didymus.

“How can you say that?” Sarah asked, her voice unsteady. “Would you want someone to use magic on you without your consent, without you having any say so at all how it was used, without knowing the consequences, or the…side effects? Shouldn’t the choice be mine?” Sarah demanded.

“Well, when ya put it that way,” said Hoggle, clearly struggling to balance the two viewpoints. “I guess he shoulda asked ya….” Hoggle trailed off. “Then again, Jareth’s been king since before me great granddaddy was a babe. I don’t reckon he’s ever asked nobody for nothin’,” Hoggle let his thoughts wander out loud.

“Truly, Sir Hoggle. I fear you are quite right,” Didymus chimed in.

“Now, I ain’t married,” said Hoggle thoughtfully, “so don’t take this as being right or nothin’, but if you was to explain it better, like you did with me an’ Didymus here, without all the yellin’…” he trailed off.

“Then he might understand, and I might just get exactly what I want,” Sarah finished on a resigned sigh as she leaned forward and thumped her head on the table softly a few times.

How many times had she witnessed her mother and father fight, and now her step-mother and father, walking into the room, voices raised, nothing ever resolved to anyone’s satisfaction? The same arguments over and over again. How many times had she watched from the sidelines thinking how stupid it all was that they couldn’t just talk to each other. And now, she was doing the same damn thing. Dear God, things were so much easier as a third party observer, when she could clearly see both sides of the argument from the outside looking in. She shrugged and looked at her friends. When she tried to see things from Jareth’s perspective, it was clear that he had been trying, for the most part, to help her. She sighed.

“You’re right,” she conceded to her friends’ anxious faces. She smiled. “Let’s finish lunch, guys, and then I’ll have to go apologize,” Sarah sighed on a self-deprecating note.


	15. 15

Chapter 15

Jareth sighed and read the same proposal for a third time, his thoughts straying to Sarah. He needed to concentrate on the matter of a bridge near the dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf; the ferries were simply no longer adequate, but the recent argument kept playing over and over in his mind. Had he made a mistake in claiming her? No, the alternative was unthinkable. But still, was she too much of a child to be the Goblin Queen? As a Fae, he very well knew the Fae could be childish, hell, he admitted, he could be childish. But, he had tried, for her sake, to curb much of the innate mischief in his own personality since the night he had made her cry. And yet, the tirade she had just unleashed had been wholly unexpected, and so far as he could see, wholly undeserved, even if he had let the goblins have a bit of fun with her parents. The fact that he hadn’t bogged her father for shouting disrespectful insults at his Queen, well….that in and of itself deserved accolades so far as he was concerned.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Go away,” he muttered silently at Meep.

He saw the handle start to turn anyway. He smirked when the little goblin realized he had locked the door. Fool me once, he thought.

“Jareth, I know you’re in there. I can ….sense you,” Sarah said, hesitating. 

She was learning to commune with her magical senses. Good. And he was so upset that he had forgotten to use his. Not good.

“Jareth, we need to talk.”

The Goblin King sighed. He was not ready for another tirade.

After a pause, Sarah added, “calmly” to her request.

Sighing again, Jareth waved a hand at the door and it unlatched. Sarah stepped in, closing and locking the door behind her.

She crossed the room silently, sitting quickly in one of the two chairs opposite Jareth’s desk. She folded her hands tightly in her lap and stared at them for a moment. Taking a deep breath, she looked up and into his cool, mismatched eyes. His mask of indifference was firmly in place.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah began. “Oh don’t look so smug,” she countered, as the annoying, gloating smirk he sometimes wore began to twitch at the edges of his lips. “I owe you an apology for flying off the handle, but you owe me one too.” She held up her hands in a placating gesture and said “Wait,” as he was about to retort. “Just wait. Let me finish what I need to say, and then you can reply, okay?”

Jareth nodded, crossing his arms and settling in. “Proceed.”

“You have to understand that there is no magic in the Above. I know you know that…consciously, but I need you to really think about what that means. We have laws and social rules…and good people don’t touch other people without their consent. Those who do touch other people, who force their will on another without consent, they’re criminals and their actions are offensive. To me, magic is another kind of touch. It can be good…do amazing and wonderful things, but it can also be a weapon. I have very little magic. Maybe I’ll get more--maybe I won’t. You have a lot of magic. If we are gonna make anything between us work, what I want has to matter too,” Sarah paused, struggling for words.

“So, you don’t want me to do magic?” Jareth inquired. “Sarah, I’m a creature of magic. I cannot simply…”

“No,” Sarah interrupted. “I’m asking you not to do magic on me without my consent. I need you to respect my right to my body, my …personhood. You’ve already proven you can lock me in an oubliette or a bedroom, and I can’t get out. You can make me sleep so deeply that if there was an emergency, I couldn’t wake up and save myself…”

“Sarah, I would never let…”

“I know, and I appreciate that, but it’s my body, and it has to be my decision. Otherwise, I can never trust you completely not to use your magic against me.” Sarah turned her gaze squarely to his, and he could see the fear and anguish in her eyes. “How would you feel if our positions were reversed, and I could do magic and you couldn’t…if I could make you do what I wanted, even if it was against your will? Can you even imagine how helpless and vulnerable you would feel?”

“Sarah, as you come into your magic, this will become a moot point,” he paused as he mulled over her words. “I do understand, far better than you will ever realize, exactly how you feel. What will you have of me?”

He was using that strange, archaic speech again, and it took Sarah a moment to realize that he was asking what she needed him to do.

“I want your word, Jareth, a binding promise as a Fae, that you will never use magic on me without my consent or knowingly allow another to do so.”

Jareth leaned back in his chair, clearly in deep thought, his gloved fingertips steepled, tapping silently against one another as he considered the ramifications of her request.

“Fae do not make promises lightly; you know this.” At Sarah’s nod, he continued. “Alright, I would be willing to give you such a promise on one condition only. In the event of a true emergency, as the humans say, all bets are off. Should an assassin with a knife lunge for your heart, I will move you out of the way, and I won’t seek your consent first.”

Sarah nodded. “Who gets to define the term ‘emergency‘?”

“I do,” Jareth replied. “So, Precious, do you trust me?” he asked, quirking one of those unusual Fae eyebrows at her.

Sarah nibbled her lip and was reminded of her run through the labyrinth when she was uncertain of Hoggle, and he had asked her quite bluntly “What choice do you have?” She was in a similar position here. Jareth was willing to give her the promise that she needed, but it was partially on his terms.

“Alright,” Sarah replied, “but if you abuse the ‘emergency’ loophole, I’ll never trust you again.”

“I know,” Jareth replied, “I am quite aware of that, and believe it or not, Precious, I have no desire to spend the rest of my very long life with an unhappy, untrusting Queen.”

Sarah nodded. It made sense. “Make the promise.”


	16. 16

Chapter 16

The following days fell into a kind of normal routine, or as normal as Sarah’s life could be now. She was up by 7:00 a.m. each morning, but Jareth was always up and gone when she awoke. He claimed Fae needed less sleep, a side effect of the transition she was very much looking forward to. She would then shower and dress, usually in one of the knock-off gowns, and head down to his study where they would have a quick breakfast. Lessons with her tutor began promptly at 8:30 a.m. and went until 1:00 p.m. when they broke for lunch. Then in the afternoons after lunch, for about two hours, she would practice her magic, which was uncooperative at best. Jareth himself tutored her in magic for at least an hour. The rest of the day was hers.

Her academic tutor was a dour old dwarf; he looked a bit like Hoggle, but angrier and less personable. Sarah was privately certain that he had probably penned _A Dry and Boring History of the Underground_ ; he had the same pedantic, plodding, uninteresting style as the book that was her first foray into the Underground’s past. When she complained to Jareth, she found him unsympathetic. 

“Sarah, it is mid-term here. All of the better tutors have already been contracted until the end of term. Professor Quintus came out of retirement to teach you. You should be a little more grateful.”

“I know, but it’s like he’s too tired to really teach. I’m studying the ancient feuds leading up to the Goblin-Troll wars, and he makes it boring. With someone more invested, I just think it could really be exciting, that I could be really invested in learning about the Underground.”

Jareth quirked a smile and raised an eyebrow. “It may interest you to know that he is no more pleased about teaching you either.” Sarah looked surprised. She had been a good student, studying hard and passing all of her quizzes. She reddened slightly as Jareth continued, “He complains constantly that you have a tendency to romanticize history and that you are overly concerned with why mathematical and scientific theorems work and that you simply refuse to memorize and apply them.”

“Well,” Sarah huffed. “This just isn’t working out. Isn’t there someone else? _Anyone else?”_

Jareth drummed his gloved fingers gently on his desk. “I suppose there is another option. I do know of another tutor. She is currently on what you would call maternity leave, but …she generally tutors younger children. However, since your grasp of language, history, government, and a few other subjects are at the beginner levels, that should not be a problem. Your grasp of higher mathematics and all of the sciences except the magical arts are top notch; so she may need to brush up a bit, as you humans say…” he trailed off, formulating and discarding plans. “You would probably have to travel to her, given her condition, and this is assuming she would take you as a student.” He sighed.

Sarah sat on the edge of her seat and looked hopeful. 

“I will ask,” he said finally.

Sarah smiled, and before she thought better of it, she jumped up, took two steps around Jareth’s desk, leaned down and hugged him. Sarah wasn’t sure who was more startled, herself or the Goblin King. She jerked away quickly and headed for the door. As she was reaching for the handle, she felt the Goblin King’s arms encircle her. “Sarah,” he whispered roughly into her hair. 

She looked at the floor and cursed herself for being stupid. Since that night, she had methodically avoided intimacy with the Goblin King. She had feigned sleep, turned away from him…in short, she had done everything possible to show him that she had no interest in any kind of physical intimacy with him, and with one stupid, thoughtless hug, she had initiated physical contact between them and opened the door to a discussion she did not want to have.

“Sarah, turn around and face me.”

She shook her head an adamant ‘no’ and tried to again reach for the door handle.

Sighing, he took the necessary steps to skirt around her, placing his back against the door so that they now stood face to face, or rather face to chest, as Sarah discovered that she was now at eye level with the sigil of his monarch’s medallion. Moving to cross her arms, she discovered that the Goblin King had outfoxed her, sliding one hand around her waist and the other around her neck to tangle in her hair, his body now pressed too tightly against hers to slide a piece of onion skin between them, let alone her crossed arms. It was eerily reminiscent of how he had held her that night, and Sarah shuddered as her traitorous body remembered.  
“Sarah,” he whispered again, and in response she turned her face and pressed her cheek to his chest, choosing the lesser intimacy. She knew that if she tilted her head back and looked at him that he would kiss her, and she would be lost.  


“You want me,” he whispered. With his acute Fae senses he could not only smell her arousal, he could practically taste it. “Why do you fight this?”  


Sarah bit the inside of her cheek as she struggled to remain indifferent. “I…I…don’t…,” she stammered. _‘Know’_ she finished silently in her head. She hadn’t wanted to examine those feelings, her own sexuality, too closely. 

There was no doubt about it. He was right—she did want him….wanted him so much it frightened her. How could she explain that to him when she couldn’t even explain it to herself? She hadn’t been ready. She had thought she was, thought of herself as an adult, mature enough to engage in sex. She had been completely unprepared for the onslaught of emotions afterwards: guilt, shame, confusion, lust and joy. They swirled around in a constant maelstrom, fighting a never ending battle for dominance. She had listened in the girls’ bathroom and the locker room as the other high school girls talked about sex with their boyfriends. It was no big deal; it was just the pleasurable fitting together of two bodies. In reality, it was so much more, such a confusing contradiction of everything. With Jareth she felt vulnerable, exposed—as if she had opened up her body and revealed a piece of her soul, but that strange weakness made her feel strong as well, as if she possessed some great, untapped power within herself that was struggling to break free.  


Then, there was her rational mind. It kept reminding her that sex with Jareth was what had landed her in this strange predicament in the first place. And yet, what was done was done. Against logic there was the strange feeling of rightness, that somehow this relationship, such as it was, was destined, fated, simply meant to be.  


“Sarah,” he whispered again, and she felt a slight tug on her hair as he attempted to get her to tip her face up for a kiss. And God help her, she wanted him to kiss her.  


“I can’t,” she replied sadly.  


“Why?” The silence stretched as she struggled to articulate even one of the many thoughts running through her mind.  


“Because I don’t trust you. You keep things from me, things I should know, things that concern me,” she replied emphatically. Jareth sighed. Sarah took that as a silent cue that he was going to release her. When he did not, she pushed against his shoulders, but that caused him to tighten his hold, as he struggled with his thoughts.  


She stood still, imprisoned in his arms, as she blurted out the first thing that came into her mind. “Are you going to force me?” she whispered.  


Jareth released her so quickly she nearly tumbled to the floor. “Never,” he stated forcefully as he jerked open the door. Sarah took a step back and looked at him. The mask of cold indifference was back, but before it slid into place, she had seen the look of anger and sheer abhorrence in his eyes. Confused now at this strange turn of events, she walked through the door and heard it shut forcefully behind her. 

Belatedly, she realized that Jareth was upset because she had implied he was a rapist, but surely he realized that she really didn’t know all that much about him. She could have, she admitted to herself, been a little more tactful and simply asked him what his intentions were. In hindsight, she also recognized that he may simply have been struggling with whether or not to tell her all or some of what he had been withholding. She may have, inadvertently, just eliminated the chance that she would get information that she was certain she needed. Silently damning her lack of filter between brain and mouth, she opened the door to try to explain?, apologize?, but Jareth was gone, a dissipating glimmer of black and silver the only evidence that he had ever been there.

 

He was avoiding her; Sarah was certain of it when he didn’t come to bed that night. Nor was he at breakfast, lunch or dinner the following day. She missed her magic lesson with the Goblin King, and the palace goblins just shrugged noncommittally when she asked about him. Sarah was becoming concerned. Although she generally liked it when people believed her to be spontaneous and unpredictable, she was, at heart, a planner. She liked structure and predictability. It niggled her conscience that she may have deeply offended him, and his absence disrupted her tentative schedule in this strange, magical world, such as it was. She was not about to admit that she missed his presence in their bed. His bed, she silently reprimanded herself. She slept fitfully again that night, and woke from a light doze when she felt him slide into bed well after midnight.  


“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She felt more than saw him tense, the gloom in the room too deep for her to see.  


Silence.  


“I didn’t mean to offend you…to drive you out of your own home,” Sarah whispered into the darkness.  


Jareth sighed softly. “It was a legitimate question. You really know nothing about me, do you?”  


“You’re not angry then?”  


“No.”  


“Then why did you leave?”  


“I had been summoned earlier that day by the High Fae Council. They also act as the highest court in the Underground. Lindell has followed through with her threat to involve the Council. They have set a hearing four days hence to get to the truth of the matter.”  


“Why would they get involved? The solicitor said…” Sarah trailed off, uncertain.  


“She has made allegations that I claimed you by force,” he snarled angrily.  


“What?” Sarah gasped, sitting upright and turning to face Jareth. The irony of their last conversation wasn’t lost on Sarah.  


He felt the movement and waved his hand, lighting the candles on the nightstand. He sat slowly to face her.  


“I will do all I can to prevent it, but you may have to testify, Sarah.”  


“You mean tell a bunch of strangers what a complete slut I am?” she asked, a note of hysterical laughter in her voice.  


Jareth looked at her sharply and was about to speak when she continued. “What happens if I refuse to testify?”  


“Nothing. They can do nothing to you. You are not yet a citizen of the Underground, not yet Fae. The only punishment they can use against you is exile to the Above.” Sarah was beginning to catch onto the nuances of Fae speech.  


“What about you? What can they do to you?”  


“Sarah…”  


“Jareth,” she mimicked. “Answer the question.” He didn’t want to; she could see it in his eyes—the urge to evade, escape at all costs. Seeing the resolve in her eyes, he sighed finally and answered.  


“If they believe I forced you, they will likely strip me of my kingdom. If they are feeling particularly punitive, I will serve the rest of my sentence in iron chains in the salt mines.”  


“So, slut it is then,” Sarah said with resigned conviction.  


“Sarah, do you think yourself to be some sort of…?” He stared at her, at a complete loss. It wasn’t possible. She really couldn’t think herself to be…  


Sarah disabused him of his naiveté. “In my world, Jareth, there’s a word for girls who sleep with men they barely know.”  


He stared at her in complete disbelief. Knowing he was going to pay for this but unable to hold it in any longer, he laughed, a gut wrenching laugh of true amusement.  


Sarah’s temper went from zero to sixty in half a second flat. Giving him an indignant glare, she struggled to free herself from the tangled bedclothes. She desperately needed to flee that mocking laughter. How could she have been so stupid as to admit this to him?  


Before she could, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to him in an awkward sprawl. “Let me go,” she hissed angrily.  


“Hush, Precious,” he whispered, faint laughter still coloring his words. “I can assure you that if there is a slut in this bed, it most certainly isn’t you.” He smirked, the amusement still dancing in his eyes. That stopped her cold, and she felt a strange tinge of jealousy suspiciously close to her heart. She nibbled her lip as she worked up the nerve to ask.  


“Have you had many women?”  


“Yes,” came the amused reply.  


“How many?” she whispered, a sinking feeling of inexperienced inadequacy in her gut.  


“Does it matter?” he countered, beginning to intuit that complete honesty may not be to his immediate benefit.  


At her nod, he sighed. “I don’t really know, Precious. Forever can be both not long at all and a very long time.”  


“Ballpark?” Sarah inquired.  


Jareth’s features creased slightly. “If you’re asking for an estimate…” he inquired, a bit confused by the Above terminology. Sarah nodded and looked him squarely in the eye. “Six maybe seven…” Well, that wasn’t terrible, Sarah thought to herself. “…hundred,” Jareth finished.  


Her eyes widened; her mouth opened, but no sound emerged.  


“I have been alive a very long time, Sarah.”  


She nodded dumbly. A part of her had known that Jareth was very, very experienced. Even in her innocence, she knew that what they had done was supposed to hurt. And she knew from listening to the other girls that sex was usually not very good for the girl, at least not the first few times.  


“Feel better?” he inquired with a quirk of one of his unusual Fae eyebrows.  


Sarah was puzzled for a moment and then realized that he had told her this to make her feel better about herself. It was kind of weird, but he was trying to be nice, of all things. Well…  


“Yeah, I guess I kinda do,” and she realized she did as she spoke the words.  


“Good. You are no slut, Sarah,” he said authoritatively.  


“Maybe, but I still want…” she gasped and looked into the Goblin King’s eyes in sheer horror as she realized that she had spoken out loud.  


Quick as lightning, he shifted Sarah onto her back and leaned over her, his right hand braced to the left side of her face with most of his weight pressing on his left forearm, as they stared at one another, mere inches between them. “I want you too, Sarah,” he whispered seductively as he kissed her with a pent up passion that made Sarah forget how to breathe. She whimpered. That all consuming heat that she thought she had finally managed to extinguish in Jareth’s absence roared to life, stronger and hotter than ever. She felt her nipples tighten and her womanhood became hot, slick and oh so sensitive as her body responded. He broke the kiss then. She stared at him, confused.  


“And when you can admit that husbands and wives should want each other, that it doesn’t make you a … slut, come find me, Precious.” He kissed her gently then, sweetly. He then turned over and within a few breaths was fast asleep.  


Sarah lay still for a long moment while her body raged. She closed her eyes and desperately sought sleep, but it would not come. She needed desperately to masturbate, but it would be just her luck that he would catch her at it. “Bastard,” she whispered, as she finally slipped quietly into the bathroom to take a cold shower.  


As soon as the door clicked shut, Jareth’s shoulders began to shake as silent laughter consumed him. He laughed until he could barely breathe and then finally calmed down enough to think for a moment. He knew he could seduce her easily, but that was the easy way, the fool’s way. It would relieve her of all responsibility for herself, her body, her choices. He sighed. It was cruel, in a way, but he needed her to grow up and be the Goblin Queen. His magic whispered of urgency; time was running out. He was starting to really feel the exhaustion and stress of the last few days. Thinking that his evening with Sarah had gone even better than he could have hoped for, he let sleep pull him into sweet oblivion.


	17. 17

Chapter 17

  
“Hoggle,” Sarah exclaimed as she entered the dining hall the next morning.

She usually had breakfast with Jareth, but he had left a note explaining that he had been called away and that her lessons were cancelled until after the Fae Court Hearing. This, however, was a nice surprise.

  
“Mornin’ Missy,” he grinned as Meep wheeled in the breakfast cart.

  
“What’s that?” Sarah nodded toward the sealed envelope lying next to his plate.

  
“Instructions o’ some sort, I reckon. The king wants me to escort you to see Tannith. She runs the local mission type place at the far western side o’ the Goblin City.”

  
“Why?” Sarah asked, a bit intrigued.

  
“Dunno,” replied Hoggle, “but I’m ter give her this here note, introduce you and wait fer instructions. That’s all I knows.”

  
Sarah fingered the sealed missive, curiosity fairly gnawing at her bones. “Well, let’s eat and hit the road. Are you game for another adventure?” she laughed.

  
Hoggle shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face; he had a bad feeling whenever Sarah got into one of her defiant, adventurous moods.

  
The Goblin King had made arrangements for them to travel via an open horse drawn carriage. The goblin coachman caught Sarah’s interest; he was taller than the palace goblins she had seen, more mature and competent somehow. He spoke perfectly, as he introduced himself, inquired politely about their destination and pointed out scenic points of interest along the way.

  
“Thank you, Wego,” Sarah said politely as he opened the carriage door in front of a large structure with the moniker, Elspeth’s House.

  
“You’re welcome, Your Highness. I’ll just be taking the horses and carriage down to the livery, so they can have some grain and water and maybe a quick rub down. Hoggle knows where it is. Just send him to fetch me when you’re ready to leave. Sarah nodded as he drove away.

  
She turned back to Elspeth’s House. “What do you think, Hoggle?”

  
He let a low whistle out under his breath. “Nice place.”

And indeed it was. It looked like an old Victorian house, lots of curves and arches, with a wide sweeping front porch with lots of inviting looking couches and chairs. Children played in a large play yard on the west side of the building. On the east side was acreage devoted to farming. The three story structure looked as if it could accommodate thirty people easily. In the distance, she could see what appeared to be barns or outbuildings for animals and farming equipment.

  
“This is way nicer than what the poor people get in the Above,” Sarah said, in awe of the place.

  
“Way nicer than what the castle gardener gets,” muttered Hoggle. Sarah grinned.

  
Just then a red haired woman came out onto the porch. “Can I help you?” she called to them.

  
“We’re looking for Tannith,” Sarah said, as she and Hoggle came onto the porch. “I’m Sarah, and this is Hoggle.” Sarah gestured to her diminutive companion. The young woman’s eyes followed Sarah’s gesture, and she gasped as she looked closely at Sarah’s hand.

  
“Begging your pardon, Highness. I’ll fetch her immediately,” the young woman blurted as she fairly ran toward the nearest barn.

  
“Really that’s not necessary…” Sarah trailed off. “Oh, this stupid ring. I wish it would come off,” Sarah muttered as she once again tried to pull the magical talisman from her finger.

  
“Dunno,” replied Hoggle. “Seems kinda handy thing to have around,” he murmured as they observed the young red haired woman and another woman running from the barn toward the porch.

  
“Greetings, Highness,” the second woman curtsied, slightly out of breath. “I’m Tannith.”

  
_Blue_ , Sarah thought. Tannith was Fae, no doubt about it. She was beautiful, and her eyes should be pictured in the dictionary under the entry for ‘blue’ or maybe ‘sapphire’. Her midnight black hair was drawn back in a loose ponytail, and her open, expressive face made Sarah want to trust her instantly.

  
“I’m Sarah,” Sarah replied, offering her hand, “and this is Hoggle. Can we sit down somewhere and talk?” Sarah inquired.

  
“Of course,” Tannith replied, as she awkwardly curtsied over Sarah’s extended hand. She led them into the house to a small sitting room. “What can I do for you, High…”

  
“Sarah,” Sarah interrupted. “Please call me Sarah.”

  
“Very well, what can I do for you, Sarah?” The words were halting, and she was clearly uncomfortable calling her monarch by her first name, but she struggled to comply with Sarah’s directive.

  
“I don’t really know,” Sarah admitted, holding out the sealed envelope.

  
Tannith reached out for the missive, her brows wrinkling as she broke the red wax seal of the Goblin King and began to read. Whatever the note said, it was deeply disturbing. Tannith’s fingers trembled as she pushed the read missive into the pocket of her apron, stood up abruptly, and pressed her fingertips to her lips, almost as if she were stifling a scream.

  
“Hoggle,” she said when she had regained control, “lunch is being served in the dining hall. Please feel free to help yourself. Sarah and I need to talk privately. We will return shortly.”

  
Hoggle looked at Sarah. Sarah nodded, and he lurched forward, following the smell of freshly baked bread.

  
“High…Sarah, follow me please,” Tannith said as she walked out the door, across the porch, and began walking down the street toward a small house about half a mile away.

Tannith was clearly in need of the walk and the time to compose her thoughts. When they reached the small cottage, she opened the door and ushered Sarah into a very tidy, very homey abode. It made Sarah long for the comfortable, lived-in home full of love that she had never had as a child. Sarah sat down at the kitchen table as she watched Tannith fill a pot for tea. Once the tea was poured, Tannith sat also, kitty corner from Sarah, hesitating.

  
“Tannith, if you’d rather not do this…I can see that you’re upset…”

  
“No,” Tannith said stoutly. “I trust my king.”

  
Sarah’s brow knitted. What did that even mean? Tannith reached into her pocket and handed Sarah the letter. It said simply:

  
_Tannith,_  
_Please tell Sarah of your experience with Erlinwold. She needs to know._  
_J_

  
“Erlinwold,” Sarah murmured to herself, “Erlinwold…I know I’ve heard that name.” Sarah wracked her brain…

  
“Tis the Troll King’s eldest son,” supplied Tannith wearily.

  
Yes, it clicked into Sarah’s brain. He was the one to claim her in the second contract, if Jareth hadn’t claimed her.

  
“Do you know what Elspeth’s House is?” Tannith inquired. It was really difficult to know where to begin.

  
Sarah shook her head.

  
“It is a sanctuary for abused women.”

Sarah’s eyes widened.

  
“Jareth is the only monarch in the thirteen Underground Kingdoms who cares enough to set up such a haven. The women who come here, some with children, some pregnant even, have all been horrifically abused in one manner or another. Here, we heal their broken bodies, damaged minds, anguished spirits…teach them skills they can use to support themselves and their children, help them feel useful, productive, and in control of their lives until they are ready to move on.”

Here she paused and took a deep breath, clearly readying herself for something unpleasant.

“I am the director of this facility now, but many years ago I was one of the broken women who came here for help. When I was quite young, I fancied myself too good to be just a simple farmer, my family trade. I dreamed of beautiful cities and art, something finer than soil and crops and dirty, smelly animals. I was beautiful, even for a Fae, and I knew it. So, I ran away. I went to Serlinger, the largest city in the Troll Kingdom, and I got a job serving drinks at the local pub. It was there I met a man who convinced me that I had the makings of a courtesan. He offered to take me to the court, introduce me around, and procure a position for me to be trained as a fine courtesan. It sounded so exotic, so wonderful. I, of course, agreed. I’ll spare you the long-winded details. I can see from your expression that you understand what he really was. He sold me as a bed-slave to Prince Erlinwold. _Monster_ would be too kind a word to describe Erlinwold. He raped me, brutally, repeatedly, and when that no longer amused him, he cut me, choked me, and did things to me that are too vile to speak of. The…mutilation…left me unable to ever bear a child.”

Tannith paused as Sarah tried to breathe slowly and deeply enough to control her rebellious stomach. She was certain she was going to vomit. Tannith reached up and undid the lace at her throat, pulling down the material to show the ugly, reddened twisted mass of scar tissue that criss-crossed her chest. That was it. Sarah staggered out the kitchen door and leaned over the railing just as the bile in her stomach forced its way out. She lay over the railing a long minute as bile trickled down her chin and tears ran down her face to join the mess. Tannith pressed a cold, wet towel into her hand and Sarah accepted it gratefully. She could scarcely believe how close that came to being her story. Had Erlinwold claimed her…

  
When the queasiness passed, Sarah went back into the kitchen and sat down. Tannith was waiting with a fresh pot of tea; this one smelled kind of like mint, and Sarah smiled appreciatively as her stomach settled fully.

  
“Do you want the rest?” Tannith asked cautiously, eyeing Sarah’s pale face and haunted eyes. Sarah stared at her teacup thoughtfully for a moment before nodding.

  
Tannith sighed heavily. “I escaped eventually, half dead…wishing many a night that I was dead. I went to the authorities. They refused to do anything, laughed at me. He is a prince; I was a nobody. Besides, he has that reputation, has had for a hundred years—they said I should have known better. I heard about this place, and seeing as I had nowhere else to go as I was too ashamed to go back to my family….. Anyway, at the time, King Jareth’s sister ran this place. Brigid was an angel to me. I wouldn’t have survived if not for her. I met other girls here who had been victims of Erlinwold as well. There are, perhaps, a score of us, in total, that I know of anyway. We support each other when things get rough. When Brigid left to run the newly opened branch of Elspeth’s House in the far northern part of the kingdom, the king asked me to take over here, at Brigid’s recommendation. My knowledge of farming, animal husbandry, and fighting your way back from despair are all assets here.” She smiled a slightly bitter smile and poured more tea as she made sandwiches and cut fruit. Sarah digested all of this in the brief silence.

  
Tannith continued as she set plates on the table. “We struggled that first year. Unfortunately, there is a never ending supply of clientele for this place, and we turn no one away. I did manage to save enough to buy everyone a new pair of shoes for Yule, though. That’s how I met my husband.” Here, Tannith shone with the most loving smile and sparkling gaze. Sarah remembered the warm feeling of love that permeated the little cottage and recognized its source.

  
“Jerra, my husband,” Tannith supplied, “he works in leather. He made those dragonhide gloves you’re wearing and probably your shoes as well,” she said, nodding toward Sarah. As she looked, she noted the state of Sarah’s doe skin slippers. “Oh my, Sarah, you need new shoes. I know just the place,” she said as she winked. “A little shoe shopping is just the thing to make us forget our troubles.”

  
“Okay,” said Sarah, “but first could I use your …uhmmm…bathroom?”

  
“Down the hall and to the left.” She pointed helpfully.

  
After using the facilities, Sarah’s sense of direction failed her, and she found herself in a small bedroom. It was clearly meant for a child, but it was stark, barren; a crib, a dresser and two small stuffed animals were the only contents of the room.

  
Sarah turned as Tannith entered behind her. “I’m sorry,” Sarah began, “directions aren’t my…”

  
“It’s alright,” Tannith smiled.

  
“I thought you couldn’t…” Sarah trailed off gesturing toward the crib.

  
“I can’t,” Tannith confirmed, “but we put in an application for a wished away. We keep hoping, but so far the Goblin King has not selected us,” she said sadly. “But we are not giving up hope. Come, let’s get you some shoes.”

  
They walked a fair distance, perhaps a mile or a little more into town. Sarah noted the livery as they passed it and saw the carriage parked in the shade with Wego taking an afternoon nap on one of the padded seats. Sarah smiled and didn’t disturb their small coachman. At last they came to Jerra’s shop, and Tannith proudly showed her inside. Sarah pretended to look intently at a pair of gray suede flats as Jerra greeted his wife with an exclamation of surprise and a hearty kiss.

Once Tannith explained that Sarah needed a new pair of shoes, Sarah found herself barefoot and measured in the wink of an eye. Jerra promised that if he didn’t have something already made in her size, he could make it up in a few days. Sarah selected the gray flats, a pair of sturdy black everyday shoes, three more pairs of the doe skin slippers in pearl, red, and deep blue and was just about to leave when the tall pair of black boots caught her eye. They were similar to Jareth’s, and that got her to thinking. Shouldn’t the Goblin Queen have similar footwear?

  
“Jerra, could you make a pair of these for me…maybe a little more feminine, with silver buckles up the sides? I feel the need for some badass boots,” Sarah grinned. Tannith smiled a conspiratorial smile while Jerra measured Sarah’s calves.

“Bigger job,” Jerra muttered, “Probably take close to a week.”

  
“That’s fine. Send the bill to Jareth,” Sarah grinned mischievously.

  
The bell over the door let out a merry ding as the two ladies left the shop and began the long walk back to Elspeth’s House.

  
“Sarah,” Tannith began hesitantly, “if you don’t mind my asking, why did you need to know about my time with Erlinwold?”

  
Sarah had wondered if Tannith would ask. She sighed and told her new friend the truth.

  
After she finished, Tannith heaved a long sigh. “Oh Sarah, you are so very fortunate the Goblin King claimed you.”

  
Sarah looked at Tannith in surprise. For the first time she realized just how lucky she had been. Had Jareth not claimed her then Erlinwold would have. Being human, she likely wouldn’t have survived the torture. Looking at Tannith, she wasn’t certain she would have wanted to. Jareth was a lot of things, but she was certain he wouldn’t ever hurt her like that.

  
Finally Sarah sighed. “Do you think she knew?” Sarah asked, “My mother. Do you think she knew about Erlinwold when she signed that contract?”

  
Tannith looked at Sarah pointedly. “How could she not, Sarah? All of the Fae of the fine houses know and have for a hundred years or more. If she didn’t know, she should have. While marriage contracts are common among the Fae, it certainly demands a thorough investigation of your child’s betrothed.”

  
Sarah nodded. She paused at the livery to let Wego know that they would be ready to leave in half an hour, and then walked the rest of the way back to Elspeth’s House with Tannith. As they neared the steps, Sarah paused.

“Why Elspeth’s House?” Sarah asked. “Who was Elspeth?”

  
“I don’t know,” replied Tannith. “It’s just been Elspeth’s House for as long as I can remember. Perhaps the Goblin King knows.” Tannith shrugged as she bid Sarah and Hoggle farewell as Wego ushered them into the coach for the long ride back.

  
“Why so quiet, Hoggle?” Sarah inquired in a forced effort to make conversation.

  
Hoggle sighed. “I was envious, ya’ know. All of those gals living in that big, fancy house, and then some of ‘em told me why they was there.” He stared at his hands clenched tightly in his lap. “No one deserves what’s been done to ‘em. I ain’t got much, but…” he trailed off as Sarah nodded.

  
“I know,” she said softly. “It certainly makes someone a little more appreciative of their blessings.”

  
Hoggle nodded, and the rest of the ride passed in silence.

Chapter end note: Please be kind and leave feedback. If you are reading along and enjoying this even a little bit, I'd really like to know. A few kind words would just make my day.


	18. 18

Chapter 18

Sarah was tired when they reached the castle, and her feet hurt. She spent a long time in the bath cleaning off the road dust and sweat of her earlier trip. When she emerged from the bath in a robe with a towel wrapped around her wet hair, she found that Marna had laid out the sapphire blue gown along with her new, blue shoes. She wondered idly how they had gotten here so fast. She briefly considered skipping dinner for a book and an early bedtime, but she knew Jareth would not take it well. She had finally gotten him to explain his food-Nazi behavior and was surprised to learn that the transition to Fae was consuming a lot of extra energy. It made sense.

From her high school chemistry classes she realized that most chemical transitions required the application of energy, usually in the form of heat energy. Here, the heat energy was from the consumption of calories. Sighing, she pushed her tiredness aside and struggled into the gown and shoes, braided her hair down her left shoulder and secured it with a scrap of blue ribbon before heading down to dinner.

Jareth was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, and he offered his arm. She took it without hesitation this time and allowed him to lead her down the hall to the conservatory where Meep was unloading dishes from the dinner cart. After seating her, he took his own seat, spread out his napkin and quirked an eyebrow at her.

“So, Sarah, how many pairs of shoes did I buy for you today?” he inquired in a lazy drawl.

Sarah colored slightly. “Uhmmm…five, and a pair of boots.”

“Yes, I hear that you were in desperate need of some,” he paused significantly, “bad ass boots,” he said with a smirk before bursting out laughing.

Sarah joined in the laughter, which seemed to take the lingering tension out of the room.

“What did you think of Tannith?” he asked as dinner was nearing an end.

“I like her,” Sarah replied. “Do you think you could give her and Jerra the next wished away child? They’d really be wonderful parents.”

“I know,” he replied. “But their child will not be a wished away.” He turned to look at Sarah, and she could see he was viewing a possible future. “Soon,” he whispered. “Very soon now.”

“What does that mean?” Sarah asked. “I cannot answer.” At her look of exasperation, he added, “I do not know.”

“But you see the future,” Sarah exclaimed.

“Ahhh, but Precious, you play a role in this. I am certain of it. As your future is tied to mine, I cannot see it clearly—only glimpses of shadows. I know only that some important event involving their child will happen in the near future.”

“You can’t see your own future?” Sarah asked.

“No, it is a limitation of foreseeing, a blessed one. No one should see his own death or be so entranced with watching possible futures that he fails to live his life.”

Sarah had to concede that he had a good point; she chafed at the limitation, but in the long run it was probably a blessing. She sighed. She had eaten her meal, had seconds, and just finished her third piece of cheesecake. She couldn’t put this off anymore. “Thank you, by the way,” she said sincerely as she looked at Jareth.

He misunderstood.

“Sarah, if you need shoes, clothes, anything at all, just tell me and…”

“No,” Sarah interrupted. “I didn’t mean the shoes, but I am grateful for them.”

“Ahhh, for sending you to Tannith,” he surmised.

“Partly,” she said. “I appreciate that you trusted me enough to give me a piece of the truth.”

Jareth’s forehead creased as he considered her. What else had he done to deserve her gratitude? He’d offered the starving Fae changeling his cheesecake, but somehow he didn’t think that merited such heartfelt thanks. He looked at her, confusion evident in his eyes.

“Thank you…for …claiming me,” Sarah whispered to her lap as she turned her dinner napkin into a twisted mess.

Jareth leaned back in his chair, temporarily struck speechless. A moment passed… then two.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” shock evident in his voice.

“Believe me, I never thought I’d ever say it... _ever_ …but, talking to Tannith, I realized everything is a matter of perspective. If you hadn’t claimed me, I’d never have known about the second contract until it was too late. By the time the High Fae Council intervened, if they did, I’d be long dead or wish I was. You’re a lot of things: capricious, arrogant, smug, and you can be a real jerk, but nothing like him,” and Sarah shuddered, unable to even say the monster’s name. “What makes me so goddamn, fucking mad is that he just gets away with it—again and again. He deserves to be tortured like the women he abuses. He deserves to die,” Sarah stated, her eyes flashing.

“So cruel, Sarah,” he said, but the look he gave her was one of approval.

“Can you see?” she asked finally. “What happens to him? Is he ever punished?”

Jareth closed his right eye as he used his left to peer forward in time. “The future is not set, but the clearest one shows me his body, ripped to pieces lying in the forest for the animals to devour,” he murmured. “The events leading to his death I cannot see.”

Sarah felt a surge of vindication rise in her heart. “Thank you.”

He nodded, stood, and held out his hand. She heard the music start then and hesitated.

“Jareth, Tannith and I walked into town and back, and I was wearing those soft doe skin slippers. My feet hurt,” Sarah said on a sigh.

He quirked a smile and knelt next to her, slipping off his gloves and running his hands under her skirt, teasingly along her calves.

“If you would allow me,” he said and waited. He was offering to heal her, to take the pain away, and he was allowing her the decision.

She nodded and then added, “Keep your hands below the ankles.”

He grinned as he slid off her slippers and cupped his hands around her arches. She felt the warm tingle of the healing energy and suddenly felt as if she could dance all night.

“Better?” he asked. She nodded as she slipped her shoes back on and allowed him to lead her into a fast waltz around the lilac tree.


	19. 19

Chapter 19

Sarah was usually fast asleep when the Goblin King slipped into bed, so it was with some trepidation that she brushed her teeth in the bathroom and changed into her nightgown, knowing that Jareth was also preparing for sleep in the bedroom. When she finished her nightly ablutions, she entered the bedroom and headed for her vanity table in the corner for her skin cream. It was so very dry here.

As she rubbed the lotion into her face, she promptly let out a small scream as she saw her image reflected in the glass. The Goblin King was at her side so quickly, she wondered if he had teleported.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?” he demanded insistently.

Wordlessly, she pointed to her right eyebrow, and looking closely, Jareth could see the beginnings of the classic Fae upturn of the brow, the shimmer of magic highlighting the brow bone. Her skin was also less pinkish and more pearly. The changes were proceeding faster than expected. He shrugged and quirked one of his own eyebrows at her.

“You knew this was coming,” he calmly stated.

“I know,” Sarah murmured, peering intently at her own image. “But, I guess I wasn’t prepared for it so soon. I guess I should have expected it.” At this she held out her hand and, concentrating, she conjured a bright blue white energy ball the size of a softball. It pulsed and crackled with harnessed magical potential. She tossed it up and down a few times to demonstrate her control. With a slight twist of her wrist, it vanished cleanly, leaving no trace that it had ever existed.

“Very good, Sarah,” Jareth exclaimed, pleasure and a certain small trace of awe evident in his voice. “You’ve been practicing.”

She shrugged, pleased with the compliment.

“I had a good teacher,” she murmured, smiling.

The Goblin King smiled and preened just a little bit. Sarah turned her face and looked down, hiding her smirk. Sarah rose and slipped into bed, waiting as Jareth settled in next to her. Dear God, when did this become so normal? Suddenly, she was less tired than she had been a few moments before, and feeling chatty, she remembered her earlier conversation with Tannith.

“Who’s Elspeth?” Sarah asked curiously.

Sarah felt the crackling energy as her magic reacted to his distress. The Goblin King hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, but she sensed somehow that this was a very sensitive topic.

“My mother,” Jareth said flatly. Odd, Sarah thought. Surely Tannith would know the Goblin Queen. Unless…

“Your real mother, who died?”

“Yes.”

“Was she abused?” Sarah asked, knowing she was pushing her luck but unable to curb her curiosity.

“Yes,” came the tense response. Finally on a sigh, “Sarah, why all of the questions?”

“I’m just trying to learn more about you, your life, your family…” Sarah trailed off.

Silence.

“Alright, ask something else then.”

Sarah nibbled her lip lightly. “Okay, you said that you’ve been with lots of women...” Jareth raised an eyebrow, curious as to where this was going. “Were you ever married?” Sarah felt her magic crackle again.

Direct hit.

Jareth sighed again. “Precious, you do seem to have a knack for asking about the worst events in my life.” He paused and settled back against the headboard. “Very well, then. When I was a young Fae, very young, I rebelled against the path the Goblin King had chosen for me as his heir. I left the castle and journeyed Above, back to a life that had once been so familiar to me as a human. I found another band of mercenaries and resumed my training to be a warrior. My enhanced Fae senses and resistance to disease and death served me well. The iron weapons were …painful…and served as an extreme incentive to be the ultimate warrior, untouchable in battle. I rose through the ranks quickly until I was second in command of one of the best mercenary bands in northern Europe. One of the villages had been plagued for years by a band of Viking marauders, who demanded a steep yearly tribute. Rather than pay that year, they decided to fight back. We were hired to defend the village; it was so long ago that the name escapes me now. That was when I first met Nicolaa. She was the daughter of a local farmer. She was beautiful, kind, gentle, devout…” His voice trailed off as he remembered.

Sarah felt a stab of unexpected jealousy and struggled to squelch it.

Jareth took a deep breath and continued. “I’ll spare you the gory details of the campaign. Suffice it to say we were more than successful, and that particular band of marauders would never trouble another village for tribute,” he grinned wolfishly. “Afterwards, I began to court her in earnest, but her family objected to my status as a mercenary, so I left the company and became a farmer.”

Sarah’s eyes widened as she tried to picture Jareth as a farmer.

He grinned. “I know. It seems absurd now, but I was surprisingly good at it. Fae have a deep connection to nature, and as I tapped into that aspect of myself, I grew to truly appreciate my Fae abilities, my magic. We soon married, and then began the happiest years of my life. It was a simple existence, very much hand to mouth subsistence, but I had a kind and loving wife, a deep connection to the land, a few friends, the animals, magic, and I was content. Nicolaa had no idea of my true nature. I had concealed it from her due to her family’s belief in superstitious, religious nonsense; people then had had some dealings with the Fae and were convinced that they were the fallen spawn of evil.”

He paused slightly as he gathered his thoughts. “Then came the accident. One day after we had been married about four summers, one of the most dangerous bulls on the farm broke through its paddock stall and gored me savagely. For a human such an injury would have been lethal. I healed in three days.”

Sarah realized she had been holding her breath and exhaled shakily.

“There was, of course, no longer any way to conceal what I truly was. I tried to talk to her, to explain, to tell her that I did love her, but she would not hear me. ‘Demon,’ she called me as she held a pitchfork of iron to my throat and cut me. She joined with her family and the other idiotic religious zealots of the community as they drove me into the forest, jabbing me with pitchforks, throwing stones and whatever else they could find. I was so weak from the first healing that I had no magic left to heal myself or transport. It took weeks for me to heal from the iron inflicted injuries, living in a shallow cave, some nights praying for death, others praying for vengeance. Ultimately, when I healed, I returned to the Underground sadder and wiser. I eventually accepted my role as heir apparent and became the Goblin King.”

A long pause later he said, “So, now you know.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sarah whispered. He shook his head.

“No pity, Sarah. It was a very long time ago.”

“What happened to her, Nicolaa, I mean?”

“The zealots performed some sort of cleansing on her. She eventually married again and had children.”

“Did you ever see her again?” Sarah asked.

“Once,” he said softly. “I went to her as she lay dying some years later. She was, perhaps, forty then. I offered to heal her. She cursed my name and spat at me, raving about Demons. She died a few days later.”

“I know you don’t want pity, but I’m still sorry,” Sarah said quietly as she reached over and grasped his hand in her own. “I know you loved her.”

He looked idly at their joined hands. “That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? I loved the person I thought she was. I truly believed that she loved me enough that when I did confide my true nature to her that she would be able to set aside her ridiculous, religious notions. Brigid tried to talk me out of the match, repeatedly. She said I had more magic than good sense. Turns out she was quite right. Nicolaa would rather have buried a human husband than be loved by something she regarded as unnatural, regardless of all I had done to make her happy. I was ultimately in love with a person who did not exist, as was she. Tell me Sarah, is that really love?”

“I don’t know,” she struggled to find an answer, “but it hurts the same, regardless, I think,” she said as she squeezed his hand.

He nodded, briefly. “By the way, I know I counseled you against it, but I do respect your decision to tell your parents the truth. Had I been honest with Nicolaa…” he let the thought trail off.

Sarah nodded, understanding a lot more about him and exactly why he had advised against it.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “And thank you for standing up to my dad. He wouldn’t ever hit me, but he can be really …,” Sarah trailed off, uncertain what words to use that didn’t sound disloyal to her family.

“Obnoxious?” supplied the Goblin King.

Sarah shrugged and nodded; it was as good of a description as any.

“You’re welcome,” Jareth replied at her previous nod of agreement. “Get some sleep, Sarah. I have a long day planned for us tomorrow. You haven’t really seen much of the Goblin Kingdom yet, so I plan to rectify that. Then, we have late afternoon tea with the Dowager Summer Queen. I think you will like her.”

Sleep, unfortunately eluded her, her thoughts spinning in wild circles as she recalled all Tannith had told her, her mother’s betrayal, the upcoming hearing in front of the High Fae Council, Jareth’s past…

“Jareth,” Sarah whispered.

“Hmmm…,” came the sleepy reply.

“Would you send me to sleep?” she asked. “Not for fifteen hours,” she rushed on, “just a little nudge. I can’t get my thoughts to settle.”

“Mmmmm…,” he murmured shrewdly. “What’s in it for me?”

Sarah knew she should have expected this. Ana’s statement that the Fae love games paled to the reality. Meep had been dispatched to get some important personal things for Sarah almost a week ago. He had returned with a jar of zit cream, two bottles of Nair, and all of the old board games in her closet from when she was a kid: Sorry, Battleship, Monopoly, and a few others. Jareth had been delighted. Sarah not so much. But, she had indulged him and taught him to play over the next few evenings. Surprisingly, she found that she had actually enjoyed herself immensely. Jareth was very competitive and always, always focused on what he wanted and “the win.” They hadn’t played since he had been called to appear in front of the High Fae Council, and he was clearly in a playful mood.

“What do you want?” she asked on a resigned sigh.

“Hmmmm…,” he murmured again, clearly feigning deep thought. “A kiss,” he said at last.

“No,” said Sarah vehemently. “I’m familiar with your kisses, and I have no intention of taking another cold shower.”

Jareth laughed, mirth bubbling over as he used magic to light the candles on the nightstand.

“There are other alternatives to relieve that particular problem,” he smirked suggestively, eyes dancing with mischief.

Sarah gave him a mutinous glare.

“Still not ready? Alright then,” he countered playfully. “How about a single, chaste good-night kiss and nothing more?”

Sarah nibbled her lip in thought. That really didn’t sound so bad, and she really did need the sleep. Jareth did keep his word to her. And, if she were completely honest with herself, she wanted him to kiss her. She realized she had just silently talked herself into it.

“Okay,” she nodded.

Jareth leaned over her prone form, stroking her cheek softly with his fingertips. “Close your eyes, Precious,” he whispered. As she did so, she felt his lips, soft and warm on her own. Their other kisses had been about passion, lust. This one was different, gentle, tender. Sarah felt…cherished, and then, all too soon it was over and the Goblin King was sending her into a deep, warm sleep.


	20. 20

Chapter 20

Sarah awoke alone, as usual. She checked the time, nearly 7:00 a.m. The alarm would be going off soon. She needed to get up, showered and dressed quickly. Jareth had said he had a full day planned. But as she lay there, warm and snug, she couldn’t help but think about that kiss. It wasn’t like he hadn’t kissed her before—kisses that made her feel as if she were being scalded in hot lava. Why was she so fixated on this one, she mused as she headed for the shower?

As kisses went, it wasn’t anything special. No passion, nothing sexual at all. She rinsed her hair and tried to put it out of her mind, but the thoughts kept intruding. She sighed. It had been nice enough, but it certainly hadn’t made her hot, no bells and whistles.

It had been sweet, though…made her feel warm, and cherished and lov… Sarah stumbled out of the shower in shock. She felt loved…by the Goblin King.

Did he really love her, or was it just another illusion? If he didn’t, could he come to love her? Did she want him to? Her mind spun and threatened to leave her a gibbering idiot.

For a woman he had loved, he had left his profession, foregone the riches and life he could have had using magic, and scratched a subsistence living out of rock and dirt doing hard, manual labor. Where the Goblin King loved, he loved fiercely and without limits.

She remembered his words, “fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.” She was beginning to understand what that really meant.

She sat down hard at her vanity table, her legs unwilling to support her weight as a new thought struck her. “…Love me…,” he had said. Did she? No, that much was clear to her. He was arrogant, opinionated, capricious, and well, he had more baggage than an Amtrak train.

He could also be playful, kind, mischievous, witty, gentle… Sarah felt her heart tighten. She wasn’t in love with him, but she wasn’t so foolish as to deceive herself. She could fall for him. She wouldn’t let that happen. Besides, in two more days, she would be going home. Surely the High Fae Council could see that she wasn’t Goblin Queen material; there had to be a way to undo this Faelium thing—there were Fae older and wiser than Jareth. They would know.

Plan firmly in mind, Sarah put on the ruby dress and the sturdy black walking shoes, which, she was pleased to see, did not show under the long, full skirt. Smiling to herself, she dashed down to breakfast.

Jareth was most anxious to be off. He began the tour in the nearby Goblin City, in the marketplace. There were goblins, dwarves, Fae, and other creatures Sarah could not name all peddling their wares from carts, shops and open tents all along the main street. It was like the mall; everything she could think of was represented somewhere.

There was pottery, candles, perfumes and unguents of all kinds, cookware, fresh fish and produce, glass blowing, carving, spices, exotic flowers, and jewelry among so many other things they made Sarah’s head spin. They wandered from stall to stall, smelling, tasting, touching, and admiring. Occasionally Jareth would place an order for something to be delivered to the kitchen, but mostly they just looked around. Sarah’s eyes were wide with shock and joy.

The goblins they dealt with were all like Wego, articulate and professional, and their homes and businesses appeared neat and tidy. Sarah realized that the dilapidated kingdom where the goblins lived in tiny hovels had been part of the illusion of her challenge. This was a thriving market and community. And the people clearly respected their king; Sarah heard several citizens offer Jareth words of thanks for repairing a road, putting in a bridge, or expanding the local clinic.

She hadn’t given it much thought before, but as she saw his subjects’ beaming faces and grateful demeanors, she realized that the Goblin King was a good monarch who cared about his people. While he was occupied discussing something to do with some irrigation system, Sarah slipped away into the nearby jewelry store.

She loved jewelry. To some they were bright, shiny, beautiful baubles. To Sarah, they told a story. A stone, perfect in its composition, subjected to just the right amounts of heat and pressure for tens of thousands of years, plucked from the earth, shaped by skilled, loving hands and eyes that could see its potential—a piece of history whose beauty would continue until the end of time. And the metals. Gold and platinum, so very rare. Created only by the explosive death of a beautiful star, sent hurtling across the galaxy, maybe even across the universe, to arrive here, waiting since the earth was born to be forged and worked into something beautiful.

She knew it was a silly, romantic notion, but the union of metal and gem was like a perfect marriage, two entities with their own lives, their own stories to tell, unified into a single piece, ready to begin again to create a new history as it was worn and passed from generation to generation. She blushed as she shared her thoughts with the kindly goblin shop owner, realizing that she was being silly. There was something about him that just made her want to confide in him.

“I am Garytt, my Queen,” he said as he bowed over her hand, “and it is good to meet a kindred spirit. Let me show you my finest pieces.”

He led her over to a small loveseat type bench in the corner where wedding sets sat twinkling under the glass. He ignored those and pulled a large, flat black velvet case from under the counter. Smiling, he opened it, and Sarah gasped.

Lining the case were the most beautiful pieces that she had ever seen. Teardrop briolette rubies on a thick gold chain, an emerald so green it looked as if it were lit by a magic green fire, perfectly trichroic tanzanites that flashed purple, blue and red, but dwarfing them all was the necklace in the top left corner. It was an owl, and from the weight of the piece and the finish, Sarah concluded that it had to be rhodium finished platinum.

The owl’s body was flat and solid, each tiny feather carved, etched into its body by the finest of detail work. The outspread wings, to which the chain was attached at either wingtip, had the feathers delineated not by etching, but by openings as fine as lace. The entire piece glistened with tiny pavé set diamonds. But what stood out were the eyes. Where the owl should have had amber eyes, these were faceted Ceylon sapphires of pure cornflower blue. They were hypnotic, mesmerizing … exactly like the Goblin King’s. She couldn’t take her eyes off the piece.

She heard the door chime softly as the Goblin King entered. “Sire,” greeted the diminutive dwarf.

“Garytt,” acknowledged the monarch. “The Summer Queen has asked me to bring her the earrings you made for her.”

“I have those wrapped and ready for you, Majesty,” replied Garytt.

“Sarah,” Jareth said softly, crossing to the counter to see what held her interest so intently. It was beautiful, truly, and it was his symbol.

“She understands, sire,” said Garytt, “the relationship between the craftsman, stone, metal, history and love.”

Sarah flushed again and laid the piece reverently, if reluctantly, back in its case.

“We’ll have that piece, as well,” he commanded, gesturing to the owl.

“A fine choice, sire. The Summer Queen will be pleased. Would you like that wrapped as well?” Garytt asked as he picked the piece out of the tray.

“No,” Jareth replied. “This piece is for the Goblin Queen. She will not be needing a box.” So saying, Jareth took the necklace from the little craftsman. “Your hair, Precious,” he whispered, as Sarah reached up numbly and pulled her hair aside while the Goblin King fastened the beautiful piece around her neck. Stepping around Sarah, he inspected it. “Most becoming,” he pronounced. “Excellent work as always, Garytt.”

The little shopkeeper beamed with pride, and they were soon stepping back out into the crowded marketplace. Bemused, Sarah reached up and fingered the necklace, scarcely believing that it was truly around her neck.

“Is this really for me?” Sarah asked softly, hardly believing it was real.

“Of course, why do you ask?”

“It’s just, no one has ever given me anything this nice before, jewelry that wasn’t plastic…,” she trailed off. “And now you’ve gone and given me two really expensive pieces of jewelry. I don’t know what to say,” she said as she looked at the wedding ring.

“Hmmmm…,” Jareth murmured. His conscience was digging at him again. If he wanted her to grow up and act like an adult, he had to start treating her like one more consistently. He had to be her husband, not her father. She needed the truth, as much as he could bear to part with. Some things were still too painful, but the rest she needed to know.

“I, unfortunately, can’t take credit for the ring,” he said slowly, wrapping his arms around her. “By your leave,” he whispered, and she nodded.


	21. 21

Chapter 21

They vanished from the marketplace and re-appeared near a waterfall. Sarah couldn’t yet see it, but she could hear it. It was very loud, almost deafening. Jareth held his hand out to her, and she grasped it tightly, as he led her over some small rocks toward the source of the crashing water.

When they reached the edge of the lake, approximately thirty feet from the waterfall, they stopped. Jareth created a crystal and threw it directly above his head. It paused in mid-air, about six feet above their heads and began to expand quickly until they were surrounded by a clear bubble. The noise stopped instantly, reduced to a low murmur like the soft wave sounds on a white noise machine.

Jareth sat on a large rock and motioned for Sarah to sit on a smaller rock directly in front of him. She did so, and discovered that it was almost like using him for a chair. Her arms rested on his bent knees, and her shoulders were pressed against his abdomen. Before she could become uncomfortable with the physical intimacy, he leaned forward and pointed above the waterfall.

“Look Sarah,” he whispered.

Her gaze followed his finger, and as the sun came out from behind a small cloud, she gasped. The crashing of the water sent a fine spray of mist into the air around the waterfall. Each micro droplet of water acted as a tiny prism, refracting the sunlight, splitting it into its component parts. Multiple rainbows shimmered and danced around the waterfall, so bright, so sparkling, they hurt Sarah’s eyes to stare at them too long. She turned away as her eyes began to water.

“So beautiful,” she whispered.

“It is,” Jareth agreed. “I sometimes come here just to think.”

Changing tactics slightly, he said, “We have privacy here, and it seems you have questions about the Labyrinth.” So saying, he stood up and offered his hand to Sarah, leading her toward a grassy patch of land with a less stunning view, the crystal bubble surrounding them shimmered and followed, keeping them encapsulated.

They sat on the more comfortable grass facing one another, Jareth leaning back on his hands and Sarah with her knees tucked up underneath her. He proceeded to explain the strange sentience of the entity known as Labyrinth, how it had interfered in their relationship, and the political repercussions of the Labyrinth’s interference.

“So, you were going to wait to claim me officially, to…court me?” she asked somewhat askance as she looked at the ring the Labyrinth had placed on her finger.

“Yes, while the laws of the Fae hold you to be of age, and I believe you mature enough, I would be a fool to not realize that you did not view yourself as an adult. The Labyrinth rather forced this relationship along at a much faster pace than I intended.”

Sarah sighed. She had grown fond of many of the goblins and other magical creatures in the kingdom and understood Jareth’s desire to maintain as much stability in the Goblin Kingdom as possible. She rather wished she didn’t. It would be a relief, in some ways, to scream and complain and blow off some of the anger.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“The hearing in front of the High Fae Council is in two days’ time. I don’t know what questions they may ask, and I don’t want that to be the first time that you hear information that pertains to you. There will be things said that will shock you and likely cut you to your core. I had hoped to spare you as much pain as possible, but your presence is required, despite my best efforts, and Queen Titania is very skilled at getting to the truth. You mustn’t react to anything you hear. Any reactions will be filed away and used against you later. We will be treading into a nest of vipers, Sarah. I want you to have no illusions about this. Everyone at that court has an agenda; remember that.”

Sarah pondered that for a moment. “So, I can ask anything, and you’ll answer—full disclosure and no holding back?” she inquired cautiously optimistic, suddenly afraid at the same time.

“So long as it pertains to you, then yes. That is what I’m offering you.”

Sarah chewed her lip, thoughtfully. “So, if I were to ask you for a full explanation of all of the reasons you claimed me using the Faelium in the first place, you’d answer?

“I would.”

“Consider this me asking, then,” Sarah said forcefully.

Jareth had known this was coming. “Very well. Some of the reasons you already know.” He sighed and started off on a different tack. “You may or may not realize that I have spies everywhere. Most of the monarchs, politicians, and even the social climbers in the Underground do. That is how I found out about the contract between Lindell and Erlinwar on behalf of his son,” Jareth stated on a sneer, his contempt for Erlinwold clear. “Once I realized who you are, to me, I could not let that happen, especially when I learned of the recent verbal addendum to the contract,” Sarah heard a strange inflection enter Jareth’s voice.

“At the time Lindell and Erlinwar entered into their contract, you had just turned seven. Their contract has the standard claiming specification, that you must be claimed between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one. Erlinwar did not specify that Lindell could not have already made or make any other offers in the future that would negate his own claim, as I did, so she did not mention to him that she had already entered into a contract with me. It is well known in the Underground …” he trailed off.

Then he resumed after a pause, “I have made hundreds of identical contracts over the last millennia. I have never claimed a single one of the betrothed. Lindell knew this and clearly assumed I would not claim you. When I did so, Erlinwar was less than pleased….well, more like enraged. What she did was not, technically, illegal under Fae law, but one does not double cross the Troll King without serious consequences. One of my spies informed me that Erlinwar met with Lindell just prior to her visit to the Goblin Castle. If she fails to convince the High Fae Council to set aside my claim on you, she will most likely pay with her life. My spy was unable to hear the particulars, as Erlinwar had Lindell by the throat at the time and whispered it into her ear, but I believe that is the gist of it. She remains unaware of just how many of her machinations I am privy to.”

He paused significantly. “Sarah, I need you to understand that I tried… I tried to claim you by the contract at first. Had you verbally accepted my offer of the mating vow…” he trailed off. “But you refused adamantly. That left me with only three options. Either I had to let you go, which would leave you vulnerable if Erlinwar and his son tried to claim you early before you were aware of the totality of your predicament, claim you per the contract via a sexual act, or the Faelium. I chose both the Faelium and the contractual claiming in order to provide you with as much protection as I could offer you. You know the rest.”

Sarah gasped and pressed her fingertips over her lips to hold back a scream as Jareth’s words ran through her mind like a reel to reel on a repeat loop. Catch-22. If the contract were to be set aside, Sarah would be claimed by the Troll King’s son. If it was not, Linda would be killed, and it most likely would not be a painless death.

“What if I had refused you?” she asked numbly as images from that night flashed through her mind. He smiled a small, self deprecating smile.

“Sarah, you were a complete innocent. I was not. I knew that I could seduce you.”

“But if I had refused?” she insisted.

“Then I would have let you go. I almost let you go anyway. I would have tried to find another way to protect you; though, you would have been far more vulnerable than you are now.” He sighed at last. “Given the alternatives, I cannot say I’m sorry.”

Sarah desperately blinked back tears, as she looked at Jareth, stricken. “What am I to you?” she whispered at last.

“You are my true mate, Sarah.”

“Your what?” “My true mate. I believe humans use the term soul-mate.”

“That’s…that’s insane,” Sarah stammered. “How can a fifteen-year-old girl whose head is filled with dreams of magic and fairy dust, who knows nothing about life or relationships or anything really, be the soul mate of an ancient, magical Fae king?” she cried out, stunned.

“I do not know, Precious, but by the time you faced me at the end of your run, my magic was telling me that, regardless of how improbable it may be, it is so.”

She shook her head. “It’s not possible. Your magic won’t let you see your own future…” Sarah trailed off, confused.

“True,” he admitted, “but as you know,” and he conjured a crystal into being that spun lazily on his fingertips before vanishing again, “that is not the only magic at my command.” He sighed and looked at her.

“All Fae possess a sort of sense magic. We can sense our mates, those who wish to do us harm, when a storm is coming, various other things too numerous to mention… It’s a sort of basic survival magic. And because Fae blood has mixed with human blood, humans possess it as well, to a lesser degree. Humans call it intuition or a lucky guess, but in reality it is merely the magic in their blood whispering to them. You’ve felt it, yourself. When you sensed me in my study and you knew to change the topic of conversation because I was upset, even though you had no body language or other visual cues that would let you know that. Sensing a potential mate is not common but neither is it rare. Sensing a true mate is,” and here he paused significantly, “a privilege only a select few are ever afforded.”

“I don’t believe it,” Sarah said flatly, becoming angry.

“Sarah, you know I cannot lie to you.” He sighed. “You asked before why I did not tell you the full truth. This is why. I knew you would not believe me. You believe in magic, but you do not trust in it. You did not ask, but I will admit this to you. I am no scholar, and I do not know all that comes with invoking the Faelium, but I do know this. It does not work unless the other is your true mate.” Saying this, the crystal around them dissolved, and he walked over to the lakeshore, leaving Sarah to struggle with her thoughts.

Sarah sighed. It was too much, and yet, it wasn’t enough. Sarah pushed herself to her feet and walked slowly over until she stood next to the Goblin King. She watched numbly as he skipped a stone across the lake. Sensing her, he reformed the crystal bubble, deadening the thunder of the waterfall so they could speak.

“You hate my mother, don’t you?” she blurted at last.

“Hate is such a mild word, Precious. I loathe that woman.”

Sarah hesitated, uncertain if she really wanted the answer to her next question, but if it came out at the hearing… There was no way she would be able to conceal her reaction to that.

“You and my mother…, were you…lovers?” Sarah asked softly.

A long pause and then came the bark of cruel laughter. “Oh Precious,” laughed the Goblin King. “I’d sooner lie with a nest of vipers than that woman,” he chortled.

“Then why do you hate her so much? What did she ever do to you?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “She did nothing to me, but only because she did not get the chance.” He paused and studied her intently for a moment.

Sarah felt overly exposed under the scrutiny. Finally, she asked, “What?” an exasperated note creeping into her voice.

“I am merely trying to decide if this story pertains enough to you such that you should know or if another’s right to privacy outweighs your interests.” He sighed and looked back at the water as he sent another rock sailing across the water in long skips, the crystal bubble easily allowing it to pass. “This pertains more to your mother’s character than anything else. Are you certain you wish to know?”

“Yes, I doubt anything could shock me now.”

“As you wish. I will give you the gist of the story; if my sister wishes to divulge the particulars, she may do so. Agreed?”

Sarah nodded mutely.

“After the death of my wife, I was grieving her loss and her rejection. I had held out hope until Nicolaa’s death that she would forgive, remember the love we had shared. I was, as the humans say, quite a mess. I was also the newly anointed Goblin King. It was then that Lindell befriended my sister, Brigid. Lindell introduced her at court, took her to dances, parties, shared gossip and confidences; for a time, they were thick as thieves. It was then that Lindell asked to be introduced to me. Brigid refused, knowing that I was not ready to socialize. In some ways, I was barely hanging on to my sanity between my grief and the immense pressure on me as a new monarch. Lindell persisted, and finally Brigid realized that Lindell was scheming to snare the vulnerable Goblin King as she fancied herself a queen. Brigid denounced her ‘ _friend_ ’ and warned me of her machinations. In a rage, and out of pure spite and venom, Lindell seduced Brigid’s fiancé. He was young, foolish and utterly besotted by the fine Fae lady of a powerful and noble house. By the time Lindell tossed him aside, Brigid was past the point of forgiveness. Trust was irreparably broken. She has still never married. Lindell is a vain, selfish, self-absorbed creature who has never given a thought to anyone but herself. Her magic could have helped others; instead, she brought untold agony to so many.” He shrugged slightly and tossed another stone. “So, now you know.”

Sarah nodded, no longer surprised by what her mother was capable of. “If you hated her so much, why did you help her, … make the deal?”

“This was not the only time Lindell had brought misery to other innocent lives. A chance to see her out of the Underground for half a century or so could not be ignored,” he replied calmly.

“What kind of magic does my mother have that she could have helped people?” Sarah asked quietly.

“Lindell was primarily a healer, but she lacked the love and compassion in her soul necessary to perform significant healings. You will see, in time, that a lack of compassion and selfishness are qualities that are rife among the Fae of the high houses. That is why, when I selected a new family for Brigid and Ana, I placed them with a simple merchant and his wife. They did not have an abundance of material items, but their home was filled with love and laughter and both girls flourished there.” He smiled a sad, nostalgic smile, and she was once again struck by how fiercely he could love.

“Will I have healing magic too?” Sarah asked, intrigued.

“Perhaps. Significant healing magic is rare among the Fae. Most healers of any real ability are Elvish,” he replied.

“But you can… You healed me,” Sarah insisted.

Jareth waved his hand. “Mere parlor tricks. Any Fae can heal a headache or ease a cramping muscle.”

“Yes, but what about…”

“Shhhh, Sarah,” he interrupted. “Wait. Look,” he pointed across the lake. At the edge of the forest, horses began to emerge…no, not horses Sarah realized, unicorns.

“I had hoped they would come today,” he whispered.

Sarah stood in awe, one hand reaching forward, reaching out to them. “Would it be possible…” Sarah began shyly, “could I touch one?”

“I don’t think so,” came the amused retort.

“I forgot,” Sarah whispered. “Only virgins can touch a unicorn,” she said sadly.

She glared at Jareth as he burst out laughing.

“Oh Precious,” he chortled loudly, “I assure you that they do not care that we have lain together. They are animals, magical animals, but still animals. They respond to kindness and gentleness. They do not have pleasant memories of their interactions with humans, for it was humans who nearly hunted them to extinction. And, Precious, although you look almost completely Fae, you still reek of human.”

She glared even harder, if that were possible.

He laughed again. “Very well, I will ask them if you can pet one of them, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“You can talk to them?” Sarah asked, surprised.

“I thought I told you that Fae have a deep connection to nature. That includes most intelligent animals, so long as they are in a calm state and approached slowly,” saying this he vanished from the bubble and began to reappear on the opposite bank.

His form coalesced slowly, giving the startled creatures time to realize that their king was making an appearance. Nevertheless, he approached them slowly and began to speak. Sarah watched from the bubble, hopeful. A moment later, Jareth vanished and reappeared at her side.

“The youngest mare has had no dealings with humans; human stories are horror tales to her. On my word, she has agreed to let you pet her for a moment. She has decided that she will make up her own mind about you.”

He wrapped his arms around Sarah, and at her nod, the crystal bubble vanished and they appeared on the other side of the lake. Sarah staggered for a moment, disoriented at the third teleportation of the day. Jareth grabbed her arm, supporting her weight until she steadied. As she looked around her, one of the unicorns detached from the nearby herd and began to walk slowly toward her.

The others watched with varying degrees of interest and suspicion. The young mare halted her advance a few feet away. Sarah held out her hand, slowly, and waited. The mare’s soft nose inspected her hand and then rubbed gently against it.

“Hi there,” Sarah whispered, slowly raising her hand to rub along the unicorn’s cheek.

After a few minutes, the mare backed away, gave Sarah a long, appraising look and trotted back to her herd. Sarah let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding and looked at Jareth.

He smiled. “You have made a favorable impression.”

She grinned as she remembered the soft fur and the warm shimmer of magic.

“Come, we must be on our way. The palace of the Summer Queen awaits,” he said with an enigmatic smile.


	22. 22

Chapter 22

Sarah’s fourth teleportation left her dizzy and reeling, and she realized belatedly that she needed to eat. As soon as they arrived, the Goblin King plied her with more pink juice, and after a glassful, Sarah was much revived. Jareth was soon introducing her to the Dowager Summer Queen, who insisted that Sarah address her as Adin. To Sarah, she looked like a storybook version of Mother Nature, right down to the bare feet peeking out from under her loose chiffon gown. She appeared middle aged, perhaps in her early to mid forties, but her eyes held the memories and stories of a hundred lifetimes.

Sarah noticed Jareth called her Mother, and she must have given a look of startled surprise, for the lovely Fae woman laughed and hastened to explain.

“My brother was the Goblin King, Sarah. I helped him raise and train Jareth, once I knew the boy existed, of course. My brother was not always the most forthcoming with information.” She smiled a bit sadly.

“Hmmm…,” Sarah murmured as she eyed Jareth with sharp scrutiny.

He quirked a small smile and raised an eyebrow in response.

“Sorry I’m late,” came a high soprano voice as a woman rushed into the garden, her long, curly red hair bouncing back and forth in its ponytail. Sarah studied her closely. She was lovely with deep green eyes, a smattering of freckles and an inner joy seemed to light her features.

Sarah’s magic whispered ‘family.’ She turned to Jareth and silently mouthed “Brigid” as the newcomer exchanged a quick greeting and a kiss on the cheek with the Summer Queen. Jareth inclined his head slightly in an affirmative gesture, pleased that she was communing so well with her magic.

“Sarah,” said the Summer Queen, “please meet Brigid, Jareth’s sister.”

Sarah was surprised as Brigid held out her hand for a handshake, but she smiled and quickly took the proffered hand.

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Sarah said warmly as Brigid smiled brightly. “If I may ask, how do you know about shaking hands? I haven’t met anyone else in the Underground who practices the custom.”

She linked her arm through Sarah’s and began leading her toward the garden. “I’ve spent a lot of time Above,” she confided, as Jareth and the Summer Queen trailed behind. “I recently spent a full year Above during construction of the new Elspeth’s House facility in the north. It’s a practice Jareth encourages. With the long lifespan of the Fae and the partial Fae, we stagnate if we stay in one place too long, doing the same thing. It keeps the Underground exposed to new ideas, new ways of doing things, and it provides us all with a stimulating learning experience,” she said as she sat on a cushioned bench in the garden, the table nearby set with several covered dishes for the promised tea.

Despite the pink juice, Sarah was famished. They talked of inconsequential things over the small luncheon: Sarah’s impression of the castle goblins, her progress with magic, and court gossip.

After lunch, Brigid grabbed Jareth’s arm and insisted he accompany her on a stroll through the garden. Sarah watched as they walked toward the fountain, wishing she could be a fly on the wall. It was clear that Brigid had words for the Goblin King.

“So, Sarah,” began the Summer Queen, “Jareth informs me that you need some tutelage in your responsibilities as a queen.”

“Maybe,” Sarah hedged. “I’m sure you know about the hearing in front of the High Fae Council in two days. If they invalidate all of this, I may be going home. If I’m lucky, they’ll invalidate all of the contracts my Mother entered into and no one will have any claim on me at all.” Sarah bit her lip hopefully.

She smiled sadly at Sarah. “Sarah, the Faelium cannot be invalidated by the High Fae Council, although they may be arrogant enough to believe they can.”

“I don’t believe that,” Sarah replied, stubbornly clinging to her hopes.

“Sarah, my husband, Kestian, and I are the only remaining Faelium mated couple in the Underground and have been for hundreds of years. It is not a bond most Fae wish to enter into; it requires an immense level of trust. I know more about the Faelium than the High Fae Council and much more than Jareth. I know for a fact that he has seriously underestimated the bond. You will always have a claim on Jareth, and he upon you. When you are ready to accept that, I will share the rest with you.”

Sarah turned slightly as Brigid’s raised voice carried across the garden. She was standing with her hands on her hips shouting at her brother, who stood impassively with his arms crossed. Sarah was not close enough to make out the individual words or see the expression on Jareth’s face, but she knew as well as she knew her own name that he was wearing that cold mask of indifference he wore so often. As she wound down, Sarah could see him say something in reply. Her response was to throw her hands up and walk away, deeper into the garden. He watched her go for a moment and then began walking back towards Sarah and the Summer Queen.

As he neared them, he paused minutely, his eyes becoming unfocused for a moment. When he resumed, his stride was faster and more determined.

“My apologies, Mother. We must leave.”

“You are summoned.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.”

“What does that mean?” interrupted Sarah.

“It means that there is a wished away to whom I must attend,” he replied, and scarcely waiting for Sarah to acknowledge that she was ready to teleport, they were back in the throne room of the Goblin Castle.

“I will return shortly,” he said as his regular attire was replaced instantaneously with his black cloak and goblin armor. He vanished in a shower of dissipating glitter.


	23. 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that warning regarding death of a child? That's the substance of this chapter. It isn't graphic, but you may want to skip this one if that's a trigger for you.

Chapter 23

Sarah wandered down to the kitchen and fixed herself a sandwich. God, this Fae transition thing made her hungry all the time. She then meandered toward the library, nearly tripping over Meep. Sarah looked around then and noticed that the castle staff was in a flurry of activity or huddled in small groups whispering among themselves.

“Meep, what’s going on?” Sarah demanded.

“Meep fetched the healer,” he said proudly.

Sarah gasped. “Is Jareth…?”

Meep pointed to the closed door at the end of the hall. It was a room Sarah hadn’t noticed before. Now, she bolted toward it as fast as she could go. Reaching the door, she hesitated for a brief moment before pushing the door quietly open and closing it softly behind her. She sighed with relief when she saw Jareth standing upright next to what Sarah thought must be an elf. The pointed ears and three fingered hand were dead giveaways, as was its diminutive stature, perhaps four feet tall. They were crouched over something, and speaking in low, harsh whispers. One thing was quite certain; Jareth was very, very angry.

“Bilateral petechial hemorrhaging,” muttered the little elf. “Occipital skull fracture…”

“I can transform her,” muttered Jareth.

The healer shook her head sadly. “She wouldn’t survive the transformation process. It’s too late. All we can do…”

“No!” shouted Jareth, just as Sarah heard movement.

She crept forward to see more clearly. It was a child, maybe Toby’s age, but that’s where the resemblance ended. Where Toby was plump and healthy, this child was clearly not well. As she looked on, she saw the movement was from the child; she was twitching, and Sarah realized as she watched the rhythmic spasms that the tiny baby was having a seizure.

“Do something!” she shouted, making her presence known.

The child sighed, a long, low breath and breathed no more.

“There is nothing more to be done, my Queen,” the little healer sighed in defeat.

“I should have attempted the transformation,” Jareth muttered as he reached out to stroke a fingertip along the child’s brow, closing her eyes.

“It would not have mattered,” the healer murmured. “Her injuries were far too extensive.”

Jareth was struggling for control. Sarah could see it.

Finally he said, “I have convinced her father, who is responsible for this, to run the Labyrinth for a well-deserved prize, since he did not want the child. I will be seeing to his lesson personally, every step of the way,” he stated in a flat, cold voice.

Sarah looked at him, confused. “What lesson could you possibly teach someone who would do this to a child?” Sarah cried.

“Pain,” he replied, a note of menacing cruelty in his voice as he vanished from the room.


	24. 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning. Semi-graphic references to child abuse are contained within this chapter. Proceed at your own risk.

Chapter 24

Sarah turned to look at the healer, her eyes haunted. The healer covered the child’s body with a white coverlet and lead a shaking Sarah out of the room and over to the library.

“I am Athienne, Your Majesty,” said the gray haired old elf.

Sarah nodded mutely. “Why couldn’t you save her?” she asked at last.

Athienne sighed. “How much do you know about the brain of a human infant?” she inquired.

Sarah shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Watch then,” said the old elf, as she conjured a giant raspberry and a clear glass jar of water. “This is a munga berry. It is soft and spongy—very similar to a brain. The human brain floats in a suspension of cerebral-spinal fluid within three very thin membranes, the pia mater, the arachnoid mater and the dura mater, that separate it from the hard interior of the skull. The brain has no anchor.”

In saying this, she dropped the berry into the jar of water. She gave the jar a tiny shake, and the berry hit the jar, a small section of the fruit bruising and leaving a tiny pink trail of fluid in the water.

“That is what happens when the brain sustains a concussion,” she said. “This is what happens during an episode of what you humans call ‘shaken baby syndrome,’” she said as she shook the jar hard, back and forth. Now, much of the fruit was visibly damaged and pink fluid leaked steadily into the water from multiple points of impact.

“Is that what happened to her?” Sarah whispered.

“Almost,” replied Athienne. And saying that she struck the side of the jar against the table, hard enough to fracture the glass, a spider web pattern forming as droplets of reddish tinged fluid began to leak through the tiny cracks in the glass.

Sarah gasped. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

Athienne sighed, resigned. “Your God has nothing to do with this. I found evidence of old fractures in various stages of healing throughout the child’s body. Poor thing had probably never known a day free of pain in her life.”

“How often…” Sarah began, stunned.

“It’s more common than you would think in the Above. Usually, your hospitals and police deal with these cases, as the unfit parents we deal with here wish the children away before things go this far. However, on occasion, a caregiver doesn’t think to wish away a child until the child becomes the prime evidence of their crime. Then we see children like this one.” She sighed again.

Sarah sat numb, trying to recall… “Jareth said something about a transformation. What’s that?”

“As the Goblin King, he has the power to transform a wished away into a goblin babe. Goblins are heartier, healthier, and stronger than humans, and the transformation can be accomplished in a few hours instead of a month. Once changed, the wee little beasties are practically indestructible. If the child is badly damaged enough such that they will not survive long enough to transform into a partial Fae, he changes them into goblins.”

“What happens to them then?”

The little healer gave her a puzzled look. “Surely you’ve seen them, Majesty. They usually linger in the throne room. They are perpetual children, special children. The Goblin King gives them a place to live, talks to them, sings and dances with them, makes sure that they are cared for. They play all day, drink goblin ale—it’s sort of like root beer actually,-- try to get the king to kick them into the air—they assure me it’s the best game ever, and in general they have a much better life than they would have had otherwise. You must have noticed that they are different from the other goblins.”

Sarah nodded dumbly, another piece of the puzzle that was the Underground clicked into place. Sarah bid the healer farewell, and began to walk, finding herself back in the room that looked like a nursery. She knew she shouldn’t, but she was drawn to the poor child. She looked at the small, covered form and couldn’t help but wonder if anyone had ever shown her love, had ever held her, soothed her when she cried or told her a bedtime story. A mixture of pity and anguish in her heart, Sarah picked up the still form, cradled it to her chest, sat in a small rocking chair in the corner, and proceeded to tell the story of The Labyrinth.


	25. 25

Chapter 25

Jareth perched on the parapet of the tallest tower in the Goblin Castle, stared into a crystal and watched the runner’s progress through the Labyrinth. It was just past the tenth hour of the run, 13 o’clock, the witching hour, when Meep approached in silence. An internal war raged within Jareth as he debated whether or not to let the child killer live through this experience or not.

“Sire,” begged Meep softly. “The Queen is…not right.”

Jareth fixed Meep with a hard, steady gaze. “What do you mean, not right?”

***********

“Sarah,” Jareth coaxed softly, “Give me the child.”

She sat in the rocking chair holding the child, rocking it slowly; the story had ended many hours ago. Tear tracks down her face confirmed that there had been numerous bouts of crying, some tears long dry, others in various stages of drying.

“Sarah,” he coaxed again as he attempted to gently take the lifeless body from her arms.

She tightened her hold slightly and cooed to the babe. His gloved fingertips found her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. The concerned fear in his eyes penetrated the numb fog in her brain.

“I’m not insane,” she said brokenly, her voice raw from the stories told and lullabies sung over the past hours. “I just couldn’t bear the thought that no one had ever loved this child, held her, sung to her...”

New tears threatened to flood her eyes, and she blinked them back as she stood on numb legs and handed the baby ever so gently to Jareth. “What will happen to her now?”

“I usually have them cremated, spread their ashes somewhere peaceful and lovely, so they can become part of the magic of the Underground, but if you have a preference…” he trailed off, still watching her closely.

“No, that sounds pretty nice.” She paused for a while as Jareth handed the babe to an elf dressed in black and realized that whatever passes for an undertaker here must have come for the babe. Once the undertaker left, they were alone again.

“Have you eaten, Sarah?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not recently. Please,” she said as he started to speak, “let it go. I don’t think I could keep anything down.”

He nodded, and Sarah realized that he had taken her arm and was leading her toward the bedroom. Without thought she followed along. Finally, as they reached their bedroom and Jareth shut the door, she turned to face him.

“Did you kill him?” she blurted, surprised to find that she had actually asked the question.

“No,” came the cool response. “Do you want me to?”

Sarah hesitated as she looked at him. He was serious. It didn’t take magic or anything other than his sincere gaze, anger banked behind his icy eyes, for her to realize that if she said “yes” then that child’s father was a dead man.

“No,” Sarah said flatly.

“Mercy then?” Jareth sighed.

“No,” Sarah said again.

Jareth looked at her closely as Sarah continued, struggling to put her thoughts into words.

“Athienne told me about her life…that she probably spent just about every single day of her life in pain from the abuse. I want him to have the same. Death is too easy…it isn’t justice. I want justice for her. She was a person, and we don’t even know her name.” Sarah cried out, her voice a mixture of anger, pain and frustration.

Jareth took two strides forward and enfolded her in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek to her hair. It was his whispered, “Oh Precious,” that did it. She broke down in sobs, no steady trickle of silent tears this time. He held her for a very long time, long after the tears had ceased.

“God, I’m a mess,” she croaked at last. “Look at me, Jareth. I’m not fit to be the Goblin Queen. I couldn’t even hold it together long enough for the funeral director to come and get that child.”

“Precious Thing,” he whispered, “it is only when you don’t react like this, with compassion and love, to the death of an innocent child that you will be unfit to be the Goblin Queen.” Jareth debated whether this was an emergency, but at last decided to ask her. “Sarah, may I send you to sleep?”

“Please,” Sarah begged. “I just want to forget for a little while.”

With a wave of his hand, she was clothed in her short cotton nightgown.

“Hey, no emergency here.”

“I did nothing to your body. I simply changed your clothes.”

Sarah shot him a dirty look and sighed. He was technically within the letter of their agreement. He gave her an innocent smile and urged her to lie down. She complied. He placed an ungloved hand on her forehead. Sarah felt the warm tingle of his magic, so familiar…and nothing. Sarah opened her eyes in surprise. She should be asleep.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Your magic is fighting me. Some part of you has set your will against mine. I can force you to sleep, but you’ll have one hell of a hangover in the morning. Is something unfinished? What do you want, Sarah?” he asked softly.

“There’s nothing,” she looked at him, confused. “I mean really nothing. I feel completely empty inside, like there’s no love left in the world, no hope, no one cares…”

“You know that isn’t true, Sarah.”

“I know, but I can’t make it stop.”

“Then listen,” he whispered. “Think about your brother, how much you love him, how you ran the labyrinth and refused your dreams for him. Think of your friends; they would do anything for you, even defy their king…”

“And the king,” she whispered shyly, “would he do anything for me?”

Oh Damn, Damn, Damn, he cursed silently to himself.

He recognized that look in her eyes. He had seen it a thousand times, hell, he had done it more times than he could count—used physical pleasure to soothe the agony of emotional pain. The anguish in her eyes was very, very real, but she was one experience shy of being a virgin. She lacked the experience and the ability to verbalize her needs. If he touched her now, would she feel as if he had taken advantage of her in the morning because she was vulnerable and distraught?

“Sarah, do you know what you want?”

“Let me touch you,” she whispered, “just a few kisses. I just want to feel….”

A few kisses, ha! He knew where this was headed; she clearly did not. Very well, then. He would give her what she wanted. With a wave of his hand, he changed into simple sleep pants and nothing else. He sat on the bed next to her.

“Take what you want from me, anything you want. I will not move to touch you until you release me to do so.”

“You’re not going to…seduce me…like before?” she stammered.

“No, you will be in complete control, Precious, I promise.” His eyebrow quirked at her.

Sarah was struggling with her own desires. He watched the play of emotions across her face. Sarah was surprised at how much she wanted to do this. To be able to touch him, taste his lips, but be in control, to be certain that things didn’t go too far—it was most appealing. It was disconcerting how much she wanted this.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Lie down.”

Jareth complied, stretching out on his back, his arms crossed behind his head.

Sarah hesitated. “Close your eyes,” she commanded. She just couldn’t do this with him watching. “And keep them closed,” she instructed.

Jareth sighed but did as she instructed.

Sarah knelt next to his prone figure, unsure how to proceed. Even turning her head and leaning across him, it would be awkward. Coming to a quick decision, she straddled him, making sure that she was across his abdomen and no lower.

Jareth barely stifled a gasp, clearly not expecting such intimacy.

Now both her hands were free and not needed to support her weight. Curious, she began to tread a little outside the given parameters of their agreement. She started with his hair, letting the fine gossamer strands of silver-gold slide through her fingers, tickling her fingertips and palms. She moved down then to the quirky Fae eyebrows, tracing the arches and watching the usual silvery gray sparkles darken with his arousal. She traced his nose, his cheekbones, his jaw, before finally, with the lightest of touches, tracing his lips, slowly, gently, over and over. His breathing was becoming shallow and ragged.

“Sarah,” he whispered. “Kiss me.”

And so she did. Beginning where her hands had begun, she drew her lips through his hair, letting the fine hair tickle her lips and chin. She slid her lips lower tracing his brows, peppering them with tiny kisses, down his nose, across his left cheek first, then his right, becoming bolder as she reached his jaw line, opening her mouth to take tiny tastes of his skin, nibbling softly, then tiny sucking motions as she inhaled his scent, learned his taste.

He groaned low in his throat, a harsh guttural sound of raw desire and pure need.

Without conscious thought, Sarah slid down, intending to take her explorations lower, positioned to taste the delicate skin at his throat, she realized what she had done; she had just slid her very damp panties across the Goblin King’s very hard erection. She gasped at the friction, as a bolt of pure pleasure rocketed through her body. Oh that had felt so very good, so she did it again, and again.

Jareth’s hands jerked from under his head and fisted at his sides, trembling in an extraordinary effort to not touch her. At that moment, he was very, very certain that she was going to kill him.

At that moment, Sarah realized three very important things:

First that control was an illusion. This was a damned dangerous game, and she had taken things much further than she had intended.

Second, she was just as aroused as Jareth was, and if this didn’t stop soon, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

Third, she didn’t want to stop.

She leaned forward then, pressing her lips to his, feeling him ardently kiss her back. She broke the kiss slowly, using the tip of her tongue to trace the seam of his lips.

“Sarah,” he whispered raggedly. “Release me or bind me,” he demanded.

She saw his hands fisted at his sides, as he struggled to keep his word. An image of a bound, naked Goblin King flashed through her mind, and she shuddered with arousal. That was a game for later, much later, when she had a lot more experience and her magic might actually be strong enough to hold him for a while. Right now, in her current state of arousal, she doubted she could conjure anything stronger than a wet Kleenex.

She leaned forward and kissed him again; this time it was his tongue that plundered her mouth, tiny whimpers escaping her throat as she pressed her overheated body to his. She finally tore her mouth from his, and taking a ragged breath, she whispered, “I release you.”

His eyes opened instantly, pinning her with heated lust, pupils dilated to equal size with desire. Lightning fast, he had one hand curled tightly around her hip, the other wound into her hair. He jerked her hair just hard enough to sting a bit. She gasped and looked at him, startled.

“Do I have your attention?” he asked, voice ragged with desire.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

Sarah looked confused. What the hell was he talking about? Did he expect a declaration of love? And then she remembered. Could she say it and mean it? Once again, he was demanding that she own her behavior, her sexuality.

Deep breath. “I am not a slut,” she whispered.

“And?”

“I want you, and you want me…and that’s as it should be.”

“Do you mean it, Sarah?”

“Yes, I really do.” She smiled. It was like a weight sliding off of her back, leaving her feeling free and powerful.

He saw the truth of her words in her eyes and laughed, rolling them so that she lay underneath him, as he proceeded to kiss her senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh...author will shamelessly beg for feedback. :)


	26. 26

Chapter 26

Hours later, all of the bedside candles had sputtered and gone out, save one that was flickering still. The guttering flame, however, indicated that it, too, was not long for this world. He sighed and watched his mate sleep with a smile.

He had exhausted her, making love to her slowly with his thumb swirling gently, continuously around or on her pleasure nub in time with the thrusts of his hips, introducing her to the concept of multiple orgasms. When he at last allowed himself release from the pleasant torture, he had enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding her while the post-coital tremors had shuddered through her body, before sending her into a deep sleep filled with pleasant dreams of puppies, unicorns and rainbows. He smiled. It was a dream he would normally give a child, but she would enjoy it.

He sighed again and slipped quietly out of bed. He hated to leave her, but the thirteen hours had come and gone, and there was unfinished business. With a wave of his hand, he again wore the armor and demeanor of the fearsome Goblin King. Kissing Sarah gently, he teleported to the oubliette where the child killer awaited justice.

__________________________

“Attend to me, human,” he barked in an angry snarl. The wretch cowered in the corner, huddling for warmth as the icy water in the oubliette lapped around his ankles. His clothes were ragged, numerous cuts still bled, and several of his ribs and his left wrist were broken, courtesy of the Labyrinth and the Goblin King.

“Wha…,” he murmured blearily, at the point of utter exhaustion.

“Do not speak,” continued the Goblin King angrily. “If you so much as utter a word, I will kill you where you stand, and be certain that it will not be a pleasant death,” he said as a cruel smile played about his lips.

“Your child is dead,” he stated almost conversationally as he watched the man carefully. Was that a hint of remorse in his eyes? Excellent. The justice he planned to mete out to this wretched excuse for a man would work so much better as long as there was a semblance of a conscience remaining.

Jareth smiled; he liked it much better that his intended justice would go according to plan. Otherwise, he would have to kill this pitiful excuse for a father, and that might upset Sarah.

“I was going to kill you,” he continued in that conversational tone. “It isn’t like you deserve better, quite frankly. But, the Goblin Queen has interceded on your behalf. She did not want you killed.”

The man looked up now, his eyes hopeful, plotting. Jareth saw it and his cruel smile grew even wider.

“Oh no. I chose well, for she is far crueler than I. She felt justice would be better served if you had to live your life as that poor child had, with pain and fear as your inescapable daily companions.”

Jareth removed his gloves, and grasping his prey around the throat with his left hand, he lifted the weak human and pressed him to the cold, dank stone of the oubliette, his legs dangling uselessly.

“Know this, then, mortal, for I am not only the Goblin King, but the Lord of Dreams.” As the Goblin King said this, he pressed his right hand firmly to the man’s forehead, hard enough to cause his scalp to abrade and blood to begin running in rivulets down his neck, as he began pressing his magic deep into the man’s mind. “And as your punishment for this most vile offense, I sentence you to a lifetime of agony. Your dreams will be haunted nightly by agonizing terror; you will wake up screaming every night for the rest of your life. You will never know peace or rest until you join that child in death.” So saying this, he abruptly released the human and let him drop with a splash back into the icy water.

“Ryvak, Moreth,” he called to his Goblin Guard, “return this human offal to the Above,” he said as he stepped out of the oubliette.

________________________________

Jareth paced. Dealing with that particular problem had brought back all of the rage and despair he had previously managed to release into pleasuring his mate, making her scream for him again and again. It seemed to have returned tenfold, and he needed to exorcise it before it turned him into a truly unbearable bastard. Sarah had done nothing to deserve having to deal with that aspect of the Goblin King.

There were only two ways he knew to relieve this sort of tension, and he sincerely doubted that his sleeping wife had either the emotional understanding of this need or the physical stamina right now to engage in the kind of rough sex he wanted. Battle it was then.

“Garn,” he called. “Assemble the Elite Goblin Battalion for combat drills.”


	27. 27

Chapter 27

Sarah woke later than she intended. The alarm had awoken her as usual at 7:00 a.m., and she had promptly rolled over, shut the damned thing off and gone back to sleep. It was now 9:20 a.m. She groaned and stretched, feeling a twinge in her lower back, ass and thighs, which became more pronounced as she proceeded to stand and walk to the shower.

By the time she reached the bathroom, she had discovered a whole slew of new, previously unused muscles she hadn’t known existed. That was weird. This hadn’t happened before when they… It came to her as the water revived her fully. Duh, the Goblin King had used magic to take away the aches and pains. Of course, Sarah thought, she hadn’t been getting much exercise here either. No hated gym class, no Karen to nag her about going to the Y. S

he toweled her hair dry as she headed for the closet, which yielded nothing. She closed her eyes and wished very, very hard for some yoga pants, a t-shirt and a pair of Nike’s. When she opened her eyes, her old clothes from Above were on the bed. Grinning and deciding that she could get used to this, she dressed quickly and went in search of Jareth.

He wasn’t in his study, and Meep hadn’t seen him all morning. Sarah wandered into the kitchen, finding Marna and several other of the castle maids having a mid-morning coffee break. They looked askance at her odd mode of dress but said nothing to their Queen. She waved them back to their chairs and served herself from the sideboard, joining them.

It was awkward, at first, the Queen joining the staff for breakfast and chit chat. But, Sarah had spent her life as an average girl and knew how to be just a regular person. Two stories later, she was part of the group, laughing and chatting as if they were all old friends. As the staff was preparing to return to work, Sarah asked if there was an exercise room she could use. Marna pointed down the back stairs and indicated that there was such a room on the lower level, but if she went down past it, she would be in the dungeon. She thanked the lady’s maid and headed down the stairs, pushing open a heavy door at the end of the hallway and promptly stopped dead in her tracks.

It was Jareth, and yet not the Jareth she knew. He was stripped to the waist, wearing only black pants and combat boots, as he kicked and spun in a lethal dance of death, wielding wicked looking curved silver blades, one in each hand against three armed opponents. Goblins lined the walls, but not any goblins she had ever seen. These were huge, at least six feet tall, some even bigger, heavily muscled warriors. She now understood why Ana had prayed that it would be many years before she saw one; they looked like something out of her worst nightmare: obsidian black eyes with no pupils, sharp curving claws and fangs, gray leathery skin the color of cold gunmetal, misshapen unbalanced features.

Sarah shivered and was preparing to back out of the door, when a slight touch to her arm and a growling voice said, “Can I help you, Your Majesty?”

Sarah jumped, a bit startled. She refrained from turning around as she composed herself, bracing herself for an up close encounter with one of these terrifying creatures. She turned slowly and met the gaze of this goblin directly, without flinching. She saw the flash of approval in his eyes, as he quirked a slight smile. God, that was even more terrifying than his unsmiling face. It made him look like a demon from hell sizing up his prey. She allowed none of this to show in her countenance.

“No,” Sarah replied evenly. “I was just looking for Jareth. Why all of the …?” she asked, as she gestured to the goblins along the wall, at least two dozen, all dressed in battle gear. A few were still standing but most were slumped over in exhaustion, a few bleeding and others cradling ice packs to swollen eyes or bloody noses.

“The king felt the need to release a bit of anger. This happens when a child dies,” he replied. “His Majesty has gone through most of the Elite Corps already. It should be over soon,” he sounded reassuring.

Sarah nodded and turned to watch the spectacle. The three goblin soldiers suddenly rushed, and Sarah stifled a warning scream, terrified she would distract him. She needn’t have worried. In a move almost too fast to see, Jareth kicked one of the rushing goblins into the wall, twisted, kicking higher, catching the next one in the jaw. Sarah saw him go down hard, probably either stunned or unconscious. The Goblin King fluidly continued forward, sweeping the legs out from under his third opponent who went down only to find one of Jareth’s blades at his throat.

Sarah gasped and clapped. Jareth sheathed his blades and reached down, offering a helping hand to the goblin on the ground before turning to Sarah, inclining his head at the applause. He gestured for Sarah to come forward.

“Sarah,” he acknowledged her. “This is Ryvak, my second in command,” he said as he indicated the tall goblin Sarah had been speaking with. He then introduced the others, some of whom struggled a bit to stand and acknowledge their Queen.

She tried but butchered several of their names and knew she would need a tutorial later. Sarah saw that her presence was clearly not required, and her magic told her Jareth was still simmering with anger and not yet done. She kissed him quickly and excused herself to go for a run.

As she ran through the Labyrinth, she silently berated herself for kissing him. It had seemed natural at the time, but it was also sort of misleading. She still wanted to go home. She sighed. She was also honest enough to admit that there were things about this new life she liked, a lot. Her thoughts vacillated constantly, and had been for some time now, between wanting to go home and accepting this new life and wanting to stay here.

The longer she stayed here, the more she was coming to think of this place as home. It wasn’t the fairytale world of her childish dreams. There was death here too, and cruelty, and pain; magic was a wonderful tool, but it couldn’t always make everything better. In many ways, the same problems that existed Above also existed here. But, the more she invested of herself in this strange, new world, the more she came to love it. Had Jareth been right all along?

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Sarah sat perched in front of her vanity table. She always felt a little silly when she did this.

“Ana,” she called into the mirror. “Can you talk?”

A moment later Ana’s smiling visage appeared. “Hello, Sarah. Have you called to discuss your new curriculum?”

Sarah looked puzzled. “No, why would I do that?”

Jareth’s sister grinned and shot her a conspiratorial look. “Because I’m your new tutor, of course.”

Sarah beamed. “I didn’t know. Jareth said he’d ask, but, he didn’t say who it was, and other things have come up since. That’s why I’ve called. You know about the hearing tomorrow, right? I’m just really nervous…,” Sarah trailed off softly.

“In all honesty, you should be nervous, Sarah. But all you can do is just tell the truth. So long as you weren’t coerced, Jareth should come out of this relatively unscathed.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Sarah confided. “I’m going to tell the truth; I won’t let them punish him for something he didn’t do. My problem is… What if they ask me what I want? Ana, I just don’t know anymore. The Summer Queen all but flat out said that there is a lot more to the Faelium bond thing than either of us knows. It scares me. Part of me wants to run as far and as fast from the Underground as I can. Part of me…,” she sighed. “I have friends here, a purpose, …a future, I think. I just don’t know. How can I decide? Is it even my choice, or will the Council just decide for me?”

“I don’t know. So far as I’m aware, only a handful of people know about the Faelium, and neither Lindell nor anyone on the Council is aware of it. Since you demanded to know if you’d been claimed, Jareth has been using his magic to block other magical creatures from perceiving the bond. He allowed your solicitor to see it, but no one else beyond he and the family knows,” she said.

“Speaking of our solicitor,” Sarah said after a moment of thought, “why is this hearing being convened anyway? Our solicitor says the written contract between Jareth and my Mother is binding, so long as one of the betrothed doesn’t petition the counsel to void the contract. Neither of us did. So how is my Mother able to challenge it at all?”

“Sarah, you well know that she is claiming coercion, which I believe under Fae law can be alleged by either of the betrothed or their parents.”

“But how?” Sarah persisted. “My mother is Fae. Fae can’t lie, but what she is saying isn’t true.”

Ana smiled. “Welcome to the Underground, Sarah. What you need to understand is that all truth is a matter of perspective. Your mother can say you were coerced because that is what she believes to be the truth. In her eyes, you are probably a good little child incapable of giving consent. So, therefore, you were coerced.”

“But I know for a fact that Jareth told her that wasn’t true.”

“Ahhhh,” replied Ana sagely, “but what is Jareth’s definition of the word ‘coerce’? If, in his mind, he believes he did nothing wrong and you were completely willing, even if any sane Fae would look at the circumstances and conclude that you were forced, then, even though he is Fae, he can tell a falsehood because he believes it to be the truth.”

”I never thought of it that way,” Sarah admitted.

“That is why this hearing is so very important. It is the only way to get to the final version of the truth, and that will depend largely on you. There are several relatively young members on the Court that would like to see these contracts banned altogether. But you, Sarah, are what the humans call a wild card in all of this. Your transition isn’t complete. The truth spells they use on humans will no longer work on you, and you are not yet Fae, and therefore you retain the ability to lie.”

“But isn’t marriage by contract a tradition here?”

“It is, but you have to understand that several problems come along with it. First off, they tie up a lot of the Court’s time, reading petitions and setting hearings regarding unhappy betrothed who cannot get their parents to nullify a contract. Also, I can name you a dozen instances that I know of where children have been essentially forced by their parents to go through with the marriage contract, and it split the family down the middle. And lastly, the biggest complaint of many Fae is that these contracts create dynasties. Families with great land holdings and substantial assets intermarry their children, concentrating that wealth and then use it to influence politics, essentially buying whatever they want—whoever they want, mayors, governors and sometimes even kings.”

“Wow,” Sarah murmured. “I had no idea my ‘predicament’ involved the very structure of Fae society.”

“Oh, it gets even better,” Ana assured her. “As the Goblin King, Jareth sits on the Council. Because this involves him, he will not be voting, but there are other Fae on the council who either themselves, or their sponsors, if they have been purchased by one of the dynasties, would very much like to see Jareth in iron manacles. If there is any way they can find against him to justify taking his crown and/or his life, they will.”

“I don’t understand,” Sarah gazed at her friend with shocked eyes. “So far as I can tell, Jareth stays as far away from Fae politics as possible. What reason could they have…?”

“As Goblin King,” Ana interrupted, “Jareth is charged by Fae law and a binding magical oath to take all wished away children and place them in the best possible home. I’m not sure if you realize this yet, but Jareth’s idea of the best possible home is one that is filled with love, laughter, kindness and the value of an honest day’s work. Very few of the fine Fae houses meet his criteria. They have a tendency to spoil the children, indulge them, enforce no consequences and shelter them from their poor decisions. For the most part, nannies and wet nurses raise the children, and there is little love and even less hard work. The fine Fae houses have created generations of selfish, entitled, worthless beings. They have tried to remove him before, to get someone more apt to give them first pick of the children they want, but they have never had anything that would stand up against him. In saving you from Erlinwold, he has given them an opening. Sarah, if you haven’t already been approached, you will be soon. Several of these families would pay you dearly to purchase the right testimony. The fact that you still retain your ability to lie has undoubtedly influenced the timing of this hearing. I’m sure of it.”

“Oh my God,” Sarah whispered. “When Jareth called them a nest of vipers, I thought he was being melodramatic.”

“Hardly,” Ana snorted delicately.

Sarah heard the door close and turned to see Jareth heading for the shower.

“Sarah,” said Ana excitedly, “why don’t you get Jareth to bring you for lunch this afternoon? I’ve added to your burden, I know, but I thought you should know exactly what you’re dealing with. I’d like to try to make it up to you and help take your mind off things. I’m anxious to show off the nursery, and I’d love for you to meet Mykah, my husband.”

Sarah smiled at her friend. “I’ll talk to Jareth, but I warn you, it better be a big lunch. I eat practically my own body weight at every meal now,” Sarah laughed.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Ana grinned. “I had forgotten the Fae transition. The eyebrows are looking lovely, by the way,” Ana winked. “Let me know if you’re coming, and I’ll send Mykah to the market. Talk to you later,” she said, and the mirror returned to showing Sarah her own reflection.


	28. 28

Chapter 28

Sarah heard the bathroom door open, and Jareth, clad only a towel, emerged along with a large whoosh of steam. Water droplets clung to his chest and arms, his hair was damp but beginning to dry in the same spiky style he always wore.

“So that’s natural,” she nodded toward his hair, “that early 80’s glam rocker hairstyle?”

Although he had numerous dealings with the Above, he found her language to be largely incomprehensible.

“If you’re asking about my hair, then yes, it’s natural. What did you think it was?”

“I don’t know exactly. I guess I assumed it was due to a blow dryer, a ton of hair gel and a half a can of hair spray.”

Jareth glared, clearly insulted.

“Sorry,” Sarah muttered, “but in my world hair just doesn’t do that, not without a lot of product.”

“Hmmmph,” snorted the Goblin King as he walked toward the closet.

For a moment his form seemed to shimmer in and out of focus, as Sarah thought she saw….but no, that wasn’t possible. Deciding retreat was the better form of valor in this case, Sarah changed the subject.

“Ana invited us for lunch this afternoon.”

“And how is my dear, meddling sister?” he inquired solicitously, exiting the closet in his usual garb.

“She seems happy, anxious to show off the nursery. Oh, and she wants me to meet her husband.” Sarah paused for a moment before asking, “Why did you call her meddling?”

“I heard a small part of your conversation.”

Sarah thought back and realized that she had only turned and noted Jareth’s presence when the door shut, not when it opened.

“How much did you hear?” Sarah asked.

“Not much,” he admitted, “but enough to know that she was filling you in on Fae Court politics. If you wanted to know, Sarah, why didn’t you ask me?” He sounded a little hurt, to Sarah’s surprise.

“It just came up while I was telling her how nervous I am about tomorrow, and you were busy,” she shrugged.

“You could have asked me yesterday at the waterfall,” he pointed out, “when I first raised the issue.”

“I could have,” Sarah replied, “but to be completely honest…I know you hate my mother, but when you told me that my mother was probably going to be killed, I really couldn’t think about much else.”

That was still weighing on her mind. “Is there any way to protect her?” Sarah asked finally.

“Are you asking me to protect your mother, Sarah?”

Sarah hesitated, aware since speaking with Ana that there were repercussions to everything.

“Maybe,” she replied at last. “What would it cost you?”

Jareth looked at her steadily, quietly pleased that she had acquired enough political savvy to ask that question. Out of respect, he gave her the blunt truth.

“There are too many variables right now to be certain, but it could very well start a war with the Troll Kingdom.”

Sarah took a deep breath, bit her lip and looked away. This time it was Jareth who initiated the change in subject matter.

“Sarah, you did not say earlier. Do you wish to go to Ana’s for lunch?”

“You’re awfully fond of that word ‘wish’ aren’t you?” Jareth smirked and raised his eyebrows in an innocent ‘who me?’ gesture.

Sarah laughed, and the tension was broken, but she knew that the subject of her mother had only been tabled temporarily.

“Sure, let’s go,” she said. She looked down at her scruffy jeans and t-shirt; they were clean but not nice enough to go visiting.

“Can you let her know we’re coming while I change into something nicer?” she asked.

Jareth nodded and conjured a crystal. He sighed as she went to change. He really needed to burn those clothes.


	29. 29

Chapter 29

When Sarah had changed, Jareth transported them to Ana’s home. It was a lovely medium sized cottage with gingerbread trim, a white picket fence and a garden of wildflowers all around in a barely controlled riot of colors. It looked exactly like the cottage of the Wicked Witch in an old copy of Hansel & Gretel Sarah had had as a child, right down to the sparkling powdered sugar detail.

As Jareth called through the screen door, Sarah surreptitiously licked her finger, dragged it through the ‘powdered sugar’ and gave it a small taste. Just paint.

“Precious, I know the Fae transformation makes you hungry, but I assure you Ana will feed you. You needn’t eat her house,” he smirked.

Sarah flushed at being caught red-handed, so to speak. “I’ll explain later,” Sarah murmured.

Jareth continued to smile until Ana failed to answer. Growing concerned, he called louder and threw open the door. A soft moan from the back of the house drew their attention. Ana lay at the foot of the stairs, her left eye beginning to show the hallmarks of a lovely black eye just starting to blossom. She looked shaken but Sarah noticed she was cradling her swollen belly protectively. What looked like pieces of trash and cloth lay scattered around her in wild disarray. Sarah knelt as Ana struggled to stand.

“Wait,” Sarah cautioned, “you may have internal injuries. Lay still.”

“Who did this to you?” Jareth demanded.

Sarah’s magic crackled a very insistent warning.

“I did,” Ana sighed. “I was coming down the stairs, and I couldn’t see over the box. I thought I counted the steps correctly, but I hadn’t. I thought I was stepping onto the floor, but…” she trailed off. “I tried to catch myself, but the baby chose that moment to kick me in the sciatic nerve, and my leg just went completely out from under me. I hit my face on the rail as I went down. I feel like a prize idiot,” she sighed.

“Mykah had nothing to do with this?” Jareth asked harshly.

“Nothing at all. He wasn’t even here. I sent him to the market,” she sighed.

Jareth relaxed visibly.

“Jareth,” Sarah said sharply, exasperation coloring her voice, still uncertain about this strange exchange. “You’re the only one who can transport. Fetch a doctor or a healer or whatever. We need to be sure Ana and the baby are alright.”

“Sarah, I would know…” Ana began.

“No,” Jareth interrupted, “Sarah’s right. I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said as he vanished.

Against Sarah’s advice, Ana squirmed into a sitting position. “It’s really alright, Sarah. I’ve fallen before. The baby seems to have it in for me. My healer put standard protection spells on me and the babe. I really would know if something weren’t right. You’ll learn to trust in magic soon enough,” Ana confided as she squeezed Sarah’s hand.

Jareth returned with Athienne at that moment, and after a cursory examination, she pronounced mother and baby to be fine, and healed the black eye and other assorted bruises. Just as Athienne straightened back up, a man entered the room carrying two sacks of groceries. He dropped them, looking stricken and rushed to Ana’s side. Sarah assumed him to be Mykah.

It took longer to calm him than it had to heal Ana. He crouched at his wife’s side, one arm around her shoulders, the other protectively curled around the baby bump. Jareth gave him a look of grudging approval. When the excitement had died down, introductions made, and Athienne had departed, Sarah whispered to Jareth that perhaps they ought to leave.

“Nonsense,” said Mykah. He tapped his ear and smiled at her. “Enhanced Fae senses, you know.”

“If we’re staying,” said Jareth in an amused drawl, “then I suggest we eat soon or Sarah may start nibbling on your cottage.”

Sarah shot him a glare. He smirked but said no more about her sampling of the house.

“Come Sarah,” Ana smiled brightly. “You can help me cut the vegetables for salad while Mykah shows Jareth the new horses out back.”

Sarah followed Ana into the kitchen where Mykah had carried the dropped produce before departing with Jareth. Ana stared out the kitchen window until she saw the two Fae nearing the barn about an acre behind the house. She tapped her ear and raised an eyebrow.

“No more eavesdropping,” she grinned.

Sarah smiled back. “Are you really okay?” Sarah asked.

“Perfectly fine. It looked worse than what it was. Thank Danu, Jareth was at least willing to hear me out.”

“What was that about, anyway?” Sarah asked. “Did he think Mykah beat you, or something?” Sarah asked mystified.

“Yes,” she replied simply. She saw the confusion in Sarah’s eyes.

“Is it because your mother was abused?”

“I believe so,” Ana replied. “Although I have no actual memory of it. Did he tell you about it?” Sarah shook her head. “No, he avoids it like the plague.”

Ana sighed. “Brigid said she read him the riot act for keeping the past from you. You should know. Much of our past is known among the older Fae. Jareth should tell you before someone else does.”

“Will you tell me?” Sarah asked hopefully.

“Yes, if Jareth does not tell you soon, I will, regardless of what my brother says or how he feels about it.”

As the ladies finished chopping vegetables, Ana asked, “So, Sarah, do you want to discuss your curriculum?”

“Not really, I just want to get through the hearing tomorrow. Jareth says it’s gonna be a bloodbath,” Sarah sighed.

Ana squeezed her hand then went to check on the chicken roasting in the oven and the steamed vegetables in a small warming crock on the stove. “Let’s set the table, and then I’ll show you the nursery,” Ana said.

After lunch, Sarah could sense a restlessness from Jareth.

“Perhaps,” he murmured, “we should have brought one of those games of yours, Sarah.”

Mykah perked up perceptibly at the mention of the word ‘game.’ Sarah thought for a moment. “You wouldn’t happen to have a deck of cards, would you?” she asked at last.

Mykah sighed and shook his head, but Ana brightened. “Yes, yes we do. They were a gift from Brigid after her last trip Above.” She brought out a still sealed deck of regular playing cards.

“Anyone ever play euchre?” Sarah asked. Mykah had, but it was new to Jareth and Ana, both of whom caught on very quickly since the rules were relatively simple.

Jareth was a cunning player, and Ana was almost unnaturally lucky, which made for several very exciting games. At last, with visible reluctance, Jareth and Sarah excused themselves and Jareth took them back to the castle.

Later that evening, Sarah lay in bed and stared into the darkness. Fear gnawed at her as the passing of minutes brought the hearing closer and closer. It hung over her, an impending sense of doom. Jareth had watched her warily since their return to the castle, sensing her unease, unable to assuage her fear. She had excused herself from dinner and gone to bed hoping that a full stomach and a warm, soft bed would help lull her to sleep. No such luck. She felt Jareth settle in beside her; if she hadn’t been awake, she was sure his presence would have gone unnoticed.

After a long moment, she whispered, “Jareth, send me to sleep.”

He sighed. “Sarah, you are…upset. You know your magic will resist.”

“Anything is better than this. My mind…it’s like being on a tilt-a-whirl that never stops. I don’t care about the hangover in the morning. Please, just make it go away now,” she begged.

“Come here,” he whispered as he held his arms open for her. She settled with her head on his shoulder curled into his warmth. She felt his fingers begin to slowly comb through her hair as he began to sing softly to her. It was the same song from the crystal ballroom, and she immediately began to relax as he promised to be there for her when the world falls down.

It wasn’t just a song, her magic whispered; it was a binding promise from a Fae. As he hummed the music, he pressed soft kisses to her temple. As she listened, the world slipped further and further away, exhaustion taking her, and a gentle tingle of magic sent her the rest of the way into sleep.


	30. 30

Chapter 30

When she awoke, sunlight peeped around the curtained windows. She looked blearily at the alarm clock—7:40 a.m. She had forgotten to set the alarm. She sat up, sleep clearing quickly from her fogged brain.

“Oh, you’re awake,” exclaimed Marna cheerfully. “His Majesty sent me to wake you. Does you need any help?”

“No, no, I’m fine. A quick shower, and I’ll be right out,” Sarah said as she hurried to the bathroom. When she returned, the bed had been made and there was a new outfit laid out across it. At first, she saw the black ensemble and thought it was Jareth’s, but then she spied her new boots with the silver buckles up the sides.

Curious, she picked up the garments and inspected them. Black leather breeches, a plain black silk blouse with a tight black something, half vest… half corset—leather of course, and a black cape identical to Jareth’s if slightly shorter. And, of course, the black, dragonhide gloves.

She pulled the garments on quickly after the brief inspection, except the gloves. She’d put them on after she braided her hair, she decided. The hearing was set to begin promptly at 9:00 a.m., and she hadn’t much time. She pulled the boots on and fastened the buckles, liking the extra two inches of height the boots gave her.

The last piece puzzled her. It was a strange, curved necklace completely set with tiny, sparkling diamonds, a larger diamond hanging low at the downwardly curved center. She didn’t want to remove the owl necklace, and she hesitated before turning to her vanity. As she did so, Jareth stepped through the door and closed it behind him. She looked at him and held out the necklace, confusion evident on her face.

“If you’ll allow me?” he inquired as he took the sparkling platinum piece from her. She nodded and felt the warm tingle of his magic. Her hair was now pulled back in a tight chignon, and as he faced her, he laid the necklace not around her neck but over her hair, the center diamond now sparkling from the middle of her forehead. It was not a necklace at all but a diadem, she realized. She was wearing the crown of the Goblin Queen.

She felt silly, like she was playing dress up and pretending to be a super villain in some of her mom’s costumes, but when she looked past Jareth and into the mirror, the unmistakable visage of a Queen, the Goblin Queen, looked back at her.

“You look perfect, Sarah.” Jareth smiled and offered his arm. “Shall we go down to breakfast?”

Breakfast was over far too quickly as far as Sarah was concerned, and they were soon standing on the front steps of the High Fae Court. Jareth had brought them early in order that he might have a chance to talk with Tieran one last time before the hearing commenced. As Jareth and Tieran began walking toward the courtroom talking in hushed whispers, Sarah was about to follow when she felt a sharp tug on her arm. She looked and saw her mother.

“Come with me,” Linda Williams hissed to her daughter.

Linda led her to a small conference room just inside the courthouse and shut the door. “There isn’t much time,” she began. “You need to understand that there are forces at play here you could never comprehend, so you need to trust me. Oh, my poor little girl. You are just a child,” she said as she swept Sarah into a hug.

“Jareth has made very sure that I couldn’t even see you since that day I came to see you at the castle. I was trying to save you from the Goblin King then, and if you do what I say now, you can go home, Sarah. You have to tell the court that you felt like you had no choice, that you had to sleep with the Goblin King, that that was the only way you thought you were going to get home safely.”

“But that’s not…,” Sarah interrupted.

“Be quiet,” Linda commanded, as she produced a sealed letter from her small, satchel-like purse. “Read this,” she commanded.

Sarah tore open the envelope and began to read. As she did so, Ana’s words came back to her. This was the offer to buy her testimony—300,000 standard pieces of gold to say that the marriage contract had been fulfilled due to coercion. The letter was simply signed with an X. Sarah felt sick.

“Do you know what this says?” she asked.

“No, not exactly,” Linda replied, “and I don’t want to know.”

At that moment, the letter and the envelope magically disintegrated, leaving no trace of its existence behind. Sarah looked puzzled.

“Whatever it said, it’s a binding offer. Things like this always disappear for …privacy reasons,” her mother finished lamely. “Sarah,” she continued in a rush, “you’re too young for this, and you need to go home, back to your life, your friends, your school, your baby brother. This is no place for you. You’re no queen; you’re a little girl playing dress up. Listen to your mother and do what I tell you to do. Otherwise, there may be no way out for you.”

She then grabbed Sarah’s arm and began tugging her toward the door. “Come on, or they’ll start looking for you. Remember what I told you,” she said as she left Sarah standing by herself at the courtroom entryway.

Sarah hastened forward and found Jareth standing next to a long table where Tieran was seated, writing on a notepad. He looked at her, concern evident in his eyes, as he seated her to his right.

“How much are 300,000 standard gold pieces worth?” Sarah whispered.

Tieran dropped his pen as he looked across Jareth to stare at her.

Jareth thought for a minute. “That would be the sum total of the treasuries of a few of the smaller of the thirteen kingdoms in the Underground. Why do you ask?”

“That’s what I was just offered to throw you under the bus,” Sarah whispered. At the confused looks from the two Fae men, she clarified. “To testify that Jareth forced me, you know…” She blushed furiously.

“You were right,” Tieran whispered to Jareth.

“Normally, those are my three favorite words,” Jareth said with a rueful shake of his head. “Unfortunately, not today.”

Sarah used the brief lull to study the courtroom. There were three slightly curved tables arranged in a semi-circle around a raised dais containing a long bench with thirteen chairs. At the first table sat her mother and a stodgy little dwarf dressed in a rumpled suit that looked as if it had just come out of mothballs that morning. She assumed he was her mother’s solicitor.

At the second table sat a smartly dressed Fae woman with a briefcase like Tieran’s. As Sarah watched, her father and stepmother were escorted to that table. They looked nervous and out of place. Sarah began to rise but Jareth shook his head and put his arm around her, pressing her back into her seat as he leaned over to whisper to her.

“Don’t react. And, don’t speak to them until after the hearing. It will appear as if you are trying to influence their testimony. Only the solicitors may speak.”

“Is that who that woman is? Is she some court-appointed solicitor?”

“Yes.”

“But what are they doing here? They have nothing to do with the contract. They don’t have any relevant testimony to offer.”

Sarah could feel her father’s influence as legal concepts began to crowd her mind, and she remembered long forgotten memories. From the time her mother left when she was seven until she was able to convince her father that she was old enough to stay home alone when she was eleven, she had spent many afternoons, snow days and summer vacation days at the courthouse listening absentmindedly to her father prosecute cases and make plea bargains while she colored or read a book. He had left the prosecutor’s office when he and Karen had married, going into criminal defense for the more lucrative pay of private practice. Sarah hoped whatever she had learned then would be helpful today.

Jareth shrugged. “Someone on the council probably requested their presence. Why ever they are here, it can’t be good,” he said ominously.

Sarah leaned farther over and asked Tieran if he had an extra pad of paper and a pen. He fumbled in his briefcase for a moment before handing over the requested items.

“Good,” Sarah muttered to herself as she drew a rough diagram of the courtroom, “it’s the legal size paper and not the small notebook stuff.”

She quickly began filling in all of the players, leaving the thirteen seats on the council blank for now. Jareth motioned for her to hand him the pen. She did so, a curious expression on her face. He began filling in the names of the council members.

When he pushed the pad and pen back toward her, Sarah saw that each of the thirteen kingdoms was represented. Fourth from the left was written ‘Erlinwar, King of Trolls’ in Jareth’s bold, masculine hand. Sixth from the left was written ‘Jareth, King of Goblins,’ but there was a large X drawn through that one. So, one seat would be vacant and one vote would automatically go against Jareth. Sarah felt fear clench her heart.


	31. 31

Chapter 31

At that moment, the bailiff (or whatever the position was called here) called the court to order and demanded that all of the occupants rise to show their respect to the court. Sarah stood and looked around. The gallery behind them was empty, so it would be a closed courtroom today, she mused.

She then got her first look at the heads of the thirteen Underground kingdoms. The Pixie Queen was lovely; the Dwarf King needed a step stool to reach his chair; the Elf Princess looked barely old enough to date. On and on, they filed in from the right. When Erlinwar entered, Sarah was surprised how much the Troll King looked like a WWF wrestler with long, coarse, red hair and a muscular body going soft around the middle with age. What was most disconcerting were the tusks that jutted to either side of his pig-like nose. He gave every appearance of being hard and brutish. As he sat down, there was no mistaking the cunning, evil smile he gave Jareth, and Sarah decided that she hated him in that moment.

Seated in the middle, six seats on each side of her, was Titania, Queen of the Seelie Kingdom. She immediately took charge and convened the court to order, asking everyone to seat themselves.

“Let the complainant come forward,” she instructed.

Sarah’s mother and her counsel rose and acknowledged the court.

“State your objections to the marriage contract. We remind the parties that the court has been provided with an authentic copy of the contract prior to the commencement of this hearing,” she intoned.

“If it please the court,” murmured Linda Williams, looking for all to see as if she were a concerned and grieving parent. Sarah was forcefully reminded that her mother was, if nothing else, a consummate actress. “My daughter is too young to be claimed,” Linda asserted.

“There is no minimum age spelled out in yer contract,” pointed out, Sarah looked at her chart, Vashoth, the Gnome King.

“My Lord,” Sarah’s mother continued smoothly, “it simply didn’t occur to me to negotiate for one. I didn’t think the Goblin King would try to claim a mere child.”

“How old is the bride, in human years, please?” asked the Pixie Queen.

“Only thirteen,” replied Linda forlornly.

“That’s not true,” Sarah interrupted hotly, before clamping her lips together tightly, realizing that she had spoken out of turn.

Titania turned to look at Sarah, her eyes widening a bit as she stared, finally holding her hand up for silence.

“You will have an opportunity to speak; please hold your remarks until it is your turn to present your case.”

The Pixie Queen leaned over and spoke hastily into Titania’s ear.

“However,” continued Titania smoothly, “since your age at the time of claiming is at the crux of this case, a request has been made that the matter be cleared up immediately. Sarah Williams, please state your current age for the record.”

“Fifteen,” Sarah replied. “I turn sixteen in two months.”

“Be there any proof that would prove the girl’s age one way or th’ other?” inquired the Gnome King.

“Yes,” Sarah answered. “In the Above, children in the U.S. are issued a birth certificate. I don’t have it, but if you could get a copy, it would prove that I’m telling the truth.”

“Benthee,” Titania gestured to the bailiff.

Jareth leaned down to whisper, “There is no active magic allowed in the High Fae Courtroom, with one, notable exception; perceptual magic is allowed by all creatures with magic. But only the bailiff may perform active magic. He or she is responsible for binding prisoners, transporting evidence, administering the truth spells to humans, and so on. Documents and evidence conjured by the bailiff are absolutely authentic and admissible directly into evidence.”

Sarah nodded and watched as Benthee murmured something and a document appeared in his hands. He took it to Titania.

“Why no other magic?” she whispered to Jareth as Titania perused the document and passed it among the rest of the council.

“It prevents utter chaos and keeps things civil. Some of the arguments can become quite heated,” he murmured.

“The bride speaks the truth,” Titania declared. “By Fae law, she was above the age of consent at the time of claiming. Complainant, raise your next objection.”

“But she is not Fae,” Linda cried out.

“Looks Fae to me,” muttered the Gnome King in an irritated manner.

“She’s human, and under human law, she is not capable of consenting,” insisted Linda. Several members of the court whispered among themselves.

“Bride,” called the Gnome King forcefully, “be ye Fae or be ye human?”

Sarah moistened her lips. She had expected this to come up due to Jareth’s earlier warning.

“I’m told that my mother is fully Fae and that my father is human with trace amounts of Fae blood, Sir, which would make me just a little more than half Fae. Since I have been in the Underground for nearly three weeks, I am transitioning to Fae, and those characteristics are now emerging.”

“If I may,” interjected Tieran, “I have done an extensive study of the human laws regarding consent, and there is no consensus whatsoever. In some countries it is normal to marry children as young as six or seven years old. Others mandate a minimum age for sexual consent and marriage as high as eighteen years of age. It varies from region to region. Sarah Williams is a resident of the United States, and there is no consensus among its own states.”

“Thank you, counsel,” Titania interrupted what looked as if it would be a long analysis of U.S. law. “We on the council are familiar with the humans’ lack of ability to agree on this most basic point. Since the bride is more than half Fae and will be fully Fae soon and both parties to the contract are Fae, in the interests of uniformity and expediency, we will be applying Fae law to the interpretation of this contract. Complainant, state your next issue with this contract, or we will dismiss your complaint and be done with this.”

“I believe my daughter was coerced, that she did not fully consent to the claiming as the contract required.”

“What is your basis for this belief, Lady Lindell?” queried the Elf Princess.

“My daughter is a good girl,” Linda replied emphatically.

Sarah struggled not to sneer at her mother’s performance; she was affecting the same mannerisms and vocal inflections as when she had played Cleopatra two years ago.

“I believe she was a virgin prior to this…this monster laying his hands on her. She wasn’t ready for something like this, and she would never have consented if she were not coerced or downright forced.”

The Gnome King was clearly annoyed. Sarah wasn’t sure if it was because he saw through Linda’s theatrics, knew that others were trying to turn this against Jareth, or if he just wanted to get the hell out of there and salvage the rest of what promised to be a fine day outside, but he bluntly called out, “Jareth, my lad, did you force the girl?”

Jareth stood. “I did not,” he stated clearly.

“Did you coerce her in any way?” demanded the Elf Princess.

“No, My Lady, I did not.”

There was more whispering among the council members.

Finally, Titania spoke. “Again, we have a request to go out of order and ask the bride. We are reluctant to do so because no truth spell is effective during the Fae transition, and she retains the ability to lie. Are all parties in agreement to accept her testimony?”

The three solicitors quickly went on record in agreement.

“Sarah Williams,” said Queen Titania, “stand please.”

The bailiff then came over and administered an oath, and Sarah found herself promising to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth upon her most sacred honor and by the Great Goddess Danu. She faced the court.

“Sarah Williams,” began Queen Titania, “did Jareth, King of the Goblins force himself upon you in completion of the marital contract in question?”

“No,” Sarah replied evenly.

“Sarah Williams,” continued Queen Titania, a resigned note in her voice, “did Jareth, King of the Goblins coerce your cooperation in completion of the marital contract in question?”

Sarah stared directly at King Erlinwar as she spoke. “No,” she replied emphatically as she watched him turn a deep, angry shade of red.

There were gasps from both the council and from Sarah’s parents. More whispers.

Queen Titania looked relieved. “As there is no longer a case in controversy…,” she began as she raised her gavel.

“Wait,” was hastily blurted by the Elf Princess. “Sarah Williams, were you aware of the marriage contract at the time of the claiming?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

The Elf Princess nodded. “I renew my previous motion that this court ban all contracts for marriage in the Underground.”

Queen Titania sighed loudly. “That is a matter for a council policy hearing not a contract hearing.”

“Nevertheless, I put forth the motion,” said the little Elf Princess stubbornly.

“I second,” a burly young man who had been silent until now, the Ogre Prince, Kymon, Sarah saw from her chart.

Queen Titania looked shocked. The room erupted with loud whispering. She banged her gavel for order.

Finally, she said on a tired sigh, “It is a moot point in this case and better just to address it in the next policy hearing. Have none of you looked closely at the couple before you?”

Eleven pairs of eyes fixed Jareth and Sarah with a hard stare. Sarah looked back, eyes wide and uncertain; Jareth leaned back in his chair, crossed his ankles and arms and grinned at Erlinwar.

Whispers of, “By Danu,”….”Faelium,”….”Not invoked for a millennia,” surged around the council.

Linda Williams looked positively green, ill to the core of her being. Erlinwar was apoplectic with rage, his jaw worked but the only sounds that emerged were little pig-like grunts. Robert and Karen Williams looked completely confused. Jareth looked around the room at the complete and utter chaos and struggled not to laugh. Sarah gave him a look like he was two sandwiches shy of a picnic, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it gently, nodding reassurance.

Queen Titania banged her gavel for silence and looked at the Elf Princess, who responded, “I’ll not withdraw my motion. The Faelium is just a magic bond, and all bonds can be broken.”

The elderly Snow Queen looked at the elf in shock. “The Faelium is not any bond; it cannot be broken; this is not something this council should be meddling in.”

The members of the council raged at one another, the battle lines clearly drawn between the older and younger members of royalty.

Sarah watched as a crafty look crossed Erlinwar’s face.

“My fellow council members,” he intoned. “This is clearly too weighty of an issue to decide now. May I suggest we take the matter under advisement while we look into the Faelium bond and discuss marriage contracts behind closed doors? What matters now is this young woman,” and he gestured toward Sarah. “We should send the poor girl home to her distraught family while we consider further, however long it takes.”

Sarah looked at him closely. It sounded so reasonable, but she was very, very certain, and she suspected it was that basic magical intuition Jareth had talked about, that if the council sent her Above, something very bad was going to happen to her.

Jareth apparently thought so too, and he began talking to Tieran in a hushed, heated whisper. There were several murmurs of agreement among the Fae council.

“I object, your honors,” stated Tieran forcefully as he stood to address the court.

“State your objections, counselor,” Queen Titania said calmly.

“First off,” began Tieran, “we do not know if, at this time, either of Sarah’s parents is willing and/or able to provide for her. Secondly, she has chosen to embrace her Fae birthright and is currently undergoing the transition and learning to develop her magic; sending her Above would disrupt that and the iron exposure would weaken her and prolonged exposure could cause permanent harm. Lastly, this court just determined that Sarah Williams is of age to decide for herself, and yet you are proposing to determine her living circumstances without consulting her at all. Surely this court is not so hypocritical.”

“Be careful with your insults, counselor,” Queen Titania warned as she pondered the objections. Finally, she looked carefully around the room. “As these are your clients’ concerns, you may ask,” she said flatly.

Sarah saw Tieran stand and realized he had been given leave to cross-examine her parents. Tieran looked at Sarah and raised an eyebrow. Sarah realized he was tacitly asking how hard he should be. She thought quickly of her mother’s behavior today, preventing Sarah from telling her the truth so she could continue with this farce of a trial, the bribery for false testimony—suborning perjury, and the still undisclosed act of selling her daughter for the personal use of a torturer and rapist. Sarah had truly wanted to believe her mother was just sad and misguided, but she couldn’t delude herself any longer.

“Rip her apart,” Sarah whispered at last.

A slight, cruel smile quirked at the corners of Jareth’s lips as he nodded his assent.

Tieran didn’t hold back. Sarah watched one of the most skilled attorneys she had ever seen tear her mother apart. By the time he finished his questioning, Linda Williams had been forced to admit that she had sold her daughter to three different magical creatures, first for talent, then for opportunity, and finally for a prize yet to be named by Linda. Tieran forced her to admit that she had heard of Erlinwold’s cruelties but hadn’t looked into the matter and had essentially promised Sarah to a monster, sight unseen. Moreover, she admitted that Erlinwar had threatened to kill her if she failed to get the Goblin King’s contract set aside, as Erlinwar was desperate to unite the Troll Kingdom with the magical ability of the House of Tuatha de Danaan. And, because of the information Sarah had provided, he was able to force her to admit that she had carried an offer letter to Sarah suborning perjury and bribery.

Sarah was amazed how much it hurt when Tieran’s skillful questioning revealed that Linda had never loved her own child and that, if it would benefit her career, Linda would sell her again tomorrow. She stared at this cold woman who called herself ‘mother’ as uncontrollable rage built to a crescendo in her very soul.

At that moment, Jareth looked over at the flash of deep blue and saw that Sarah had forgotten her gloves again. Her emotions were clearly out of control, and she was a hair’s breadth from maiming her own mother. He hadn’t realized how fast Sarah’s magic had progressed until this moment, and he doubted Sarah had either. He slipped off his right glove quickly and grasped her hand tightly, pulling the powerful energy ball into his body with a pained gasp.

She looked down, startled, as she realized what had happened.

Jareth pulled off his other glove, and hissed “put these on,” as he pressed his own gloves into her hands.

Sarah complied, shaking slightly.

There were murmurs from the court at the completion of Linda’s testimony and several of the High Fae Council demanded that Erlinwar recuse himself from the proceedings as it was clear, after Benthee conjured a copy of the second marriage contract, that he had a vested interest in the outcome of this case. He reluctantly agreed when it became apparent that the other members of the High Fae Court were ready to unanimously vote him off the council if he did not recuse himself. He stormed out of the courtroom, muttering under his breath. Sarah was very aware that she and Jareth had made a very dangerous, very powerful enemy today.

Tieran then turned his questioning to Robert and Karen Williams. Sarah watched as the bailiff, Benthee, administered the truth spells. Then the questioning began. Sarah watched intently as both her father and stepmother testified that they didn’t want Sarah back; her presence was tearing their marriage apart. They admitted that they were going to send her to a boarding school if they could find the financial means to do so, and if that wasn’t possible, then divorce was inevitable.

It was Karen’s testimony that ripped Sarah asunder. She told the court how Sarah told Toby every day, screamed it at him, how she hated him—over and over again, how cruel she was. She described how her older sister had done that to her, and how much it had impacted her self-esteem, how she felt unloved and unwanted. Karen was not about to let that happen to her precious son. They had tried to give Sarah time to come to love her baby brother, but nothing had helped. Then, Sarah had wished him away. That was the very last straw. If the Fae Court sent Sarah to live with them, she was leaving and taking Toby with her.

Sarah sat in anguish, trying desperately to hide her pain as she bit back tears of despair. She hadn’t meant it, she wanted to scream. She wanted so much to take it all back, to have just one more chance. The pain of being unloved that Linda had caused her, she had caused to Toby and through him to her father and stepmother.

Tieran sat again, having sufficiently made his point. Queen Titania was not yet satisfied.

“Jareth, do you wish Sarah Williams to remain with you in the Underground?”

“I do,” he replied.

“Sarah Williams,” she continued in that detached, courtroom voice, “where do you wish to reside? Bear in mind, that we can erase your parents’ memories. If you want to go home, you can do so with a clean slate.”

Robert and Karen looked startled at that proclamation.

Sarah would be a liar if she said she wasn’t tempted. To go home to a loving family and be able to pretend for a while that none of this had ever happened. Oh, it was like the proverbial forbidden fruit. Just as swiftly came her own memory of her reaction to Jareth using his magic to tamper with her mind and body. She couldn’t do that.

Sarah rose quickly from her seat. “If it please the court,” she said, her voice getting stronger as she rushed on. “I love my father, my stepmother and my baby brother. I swear, I never meant to cause them any pain. I was selfish and thoughtless, and I didn’t mean any of those things I said to Toby.” She paused to blink back tears. “But, I made this mess, and it isn’t fair to use magic to just make it go away or to tamper with people’s minds without their consent. I have to take responsibility for what I said, …what I did. I would prefer to stay here, in the Underground, and maybe if they’ll let me, I can work on my relationship with my family. Thank you.” Sarah sat down and stared at her hands, wearing gloves that were too big for her.

“Very well. It is the ruling of this court,” began Queen Titania, “that Sarah Williams shall remain in the Underground with the Goblin King. The court takes under advisement the issue of the marriage contract entered into by the Goblin King and Lady Lindell of the Tuatha de Danaan. The court takes under advisement the issue of the marriage contract entered into by the Troll King, Erlinwar, and Lady Lindell of the Tuatha de Danaan. The court takes under advisement the issue of the marriage contract between King Folmar of the Gypsy Clan and Lady Lindell of the Tuatha de Danaan. The court takes under advisement the issue of the Faelium bond between Sarah Williams and Jareth, King of the Goblins. The court orders an investigation into the actions of Lindell of the House of the Tuatha de Danaan for the purpose of possibly filing criminal charges. These matters remain indefinitely pending as more facts and information are gathered. So sayeth the Court. This court stands in recess.”

Queen Titania struck her gavel once, sharply, and the remaining members of the High Fae Court filed out.


	32. 32

Chapter 32

Sarah was surprised as she felt Jareth’s hand on her arm as he guided her through the courthouse doors, down the steps and to the veranda below. She blinked at the strong sunshine. It was not quite 12:30, she noted, as she looked at the large clock in the center of the square. Only a little over three hours, but how her life had changed in such a short amount of time.

Linda Williams had already gone. Robert and Karen Williams stood talking quietly, clearly waiting for someone to take them home.

Sarah detached from Jareth’s grasp and started toward them.

“Sarah, wait,” called Jareth softly. “Are you sure you want to do this? Emotions are running rather high right now and the wounds are … raw,” he concluded.

Sarah hesitated, looking at her parents. Karen turned and saw her, glared for a moment and looked away. Sarah felt as if a blade had just slipped between her ribs and gone directly into her heart. There would be no forgiveness today. She looked down, unable to meet any of the other curious stares.

“Jareth, please take me home,” she murmured.

He wondered if she realized that she had just referred to the Goblin Castle as home. Releasing a deep breath and letting some of the tension of the day melt away at last, he wrapped his arms around his queen and took her home. He transported her directly to the kitchen.

“Meep,” he called as he settled a numb Sarah into a chair. “Serve lunch immediately. The Queen needs to eat.”

Turning his focus to Sarah, he dragged a chair over and sat next to her, removing his gloves from her hands as he conjured hers from wherever it was in the castle she had forgotten them this time. He rubbed her hands lightly.

“Do you need me for anything?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Alright then. I’ll be in my study meeting with Tieran,” he said as he vanished.

Meep and the rest of the staff fussed over her as if she were a hungry child in a snit, coaxing her to eat. When she had at last eaten enough to satisfy them, she went in search of Jareth, finding him still in his study with Tieran.

“My Queen,” Tieran acknowledged, bowing over her hand, “are you well?” he inquired solicitously.

“No,” Sarah answered honestly, “but I will be. How did we do today?”

“As I was telling the King, I think that went about as well as we could have hoped. There was clearly no force or coercion involved, so His Majesty faces no criminal charges or sanctions. His position as Goblin King remains secure, and King Erlinwar will not be taking part in the case discussions or the vote. Even if the marriage contract is set aside, the Faelium protects you. The Elf Princess and the other young ones do not understand what they are dealing with in regards to the Faelium,” he concluded sagely.

“Are you certain?” Sarah asked at last. “I was hoping it could all be set aside, the marriage contracts, the Faelium, at least then I would have some choice about my own future. And Jareth wouldn’t be stuck with me because no one else wants me,” she said, defeated, a note of self pity coloring her remarks.

Tieran looked helplessly at the Goblin King.

Jareth was leaning against the fireplace mantle, staring into the flames. He turned slowly.

“Sarah,” he began reluctantly, “I thought you understood. Erlinwar wants you. He is desperate to mate his son with one of the Tuatha de Danaan. Trolls have no magic in their blood. Even though the Fae of the high houses are selfish and regard their children as cattle to be sold into marriage to gain power and wealth, no other was willing to make such a contract with the Troll King and his deviate son. By the time their Fae children are of marriageable age, they command sufficiently formidable magic that they can protect themselves, if necessary, should he try to force a mating. I was not the only one who saw your loss of control today, the demonstration of your power. You failed to see his fascination with you. You lack control, right now, but the raw potential for sorcery level magic is there. You are of marriageable age and you cannot yet protect yourself. Had things gone according to his plan, you would have been claimed when you turned eighteen, perhaps even earlier if he had become aware sooner of my contract with Lindell. You would have been married to Erlinwold and bore him legitimate heirs with great magic in their blood. Erlinwar is doubly dangerous now that his plan has been thwarted. There isn’t a shred of real doubt. If you are sent back Above, you will go missing, another statistic, a runaway. You will be used as a brood mare; any child you bear will be passed off as a legitimate heir, the offspring of Erlinwold and whatever wife Erlinwar can find for him. Unlike Tannith who escaped and those others who died, you will receive better medical care while you are of value and can produce offspring. Then you will be killed, before your magic reaches a level where you can control it well enough to protect yourself, so you can never reveal the truth. So long as you remain in the Underground, the Faelium protects you. Everyone here knows you are my mate, the Goblin Queen, and protected by my magic and the magic of the Labyrinth; the trolls cannot get to you. You cannot bear Erlinwold a legitimate heir so long as you are wife to another, and if you were to go missing, the Troll Kingdom would be ripped asunder in the search. It would be civil war.”

Jareth sighed again.

“Until your magic is fully developed and under control, you are vulnerable outside the Goblin Kingdom,” Tieran reiterated. “What his Highness says is true, but it would be best not to tempt fate. Once the hot headed young ones on the council realize that it is not in their power to split a mated couple, all of this, the legal part of this mess, should die down,” interjected Tieran.

Sarah stared at her gloved hands in her lap. “If the Troll King has no magic, how did he fulfill his end of the marriage contract and give my mother the stardom she wanted?”

“As in the Above, power and money buy what you need. The Troll King and other powerful, but non-magical, lords purchase the services of those who do possess sorcery level magic. The particular sorcerer who performed this bit of magic happens to be the second cousin of the Dowager Summer Queen,” Jareth stated on an even note.

“So that’s how you knew about the second contract,” she said. “You knew about it almost as soon as it was signed.”

“Just so,” he acknowledged. “How I acquired an authentic copy of the contract, well, that’s another story.”

Sarah sat silently wondering if the Goblin King was always three steps ahead of everyone else.

“Well, I should be going,” said Tieran at last.

“Of course,” Sarah replied. “It’s such a fine day; you should spend what’s left of it with your wife and family.” She felt the need to crawl into an oubliette herself and lick her wounds.

He chuckled ruefully. “Just an old bachelor, but maybe someday…” he trailed off. “I’ll likely find some work that needs doing back at the office.”

“Oh,” Sarah said. Her magic was whispering to her again—well, not exactly whispering. Truth be told the little pest was being rather loud and insistent. “Since you’ve nowhere particular to be, I was hoping you could stay for dinner, and perhaps we could play a game.”

This was just what she needed, a project to take her mind off of her own problems. Bless the insistent little pest, after all. Sarah smiled to herself. At the mention of the word ‘game,’ both Fae noticeably perked up.

_Gotcha_ , Sarah thought to herself.

“Perhaps we could play that euchre game,” Jareth’s said, eyes sparkling. “It was most exciting.”

“Well,” said Sarah, a look of faux concentration on her face. “You really need four people for that; otherwise it’s called cutthroat euchre and not nearly as much fun. Why don’t you finish your drinks,” she said as she nodded toward the liquor glasses on the table, “and I’ll see what I can do about getting us a fourth,” she said as she smiled secretively.

Jareth’s eyes narrowed. She was up to something. He didn’t even need magic to tell; he was long familiar with the wily ways of women. Tieran was clueless, poor sod.

She slipped out of the room before he could demand an explanation. He sighed as he turned to his guest. He would let this play out. One thing was certain; his queen did make life interesting.


	33. 33

Chapter 33

Sarah had never tried to reach Jareth’s other sister before.

“Brigid,” she said clearly into her vanity mirror. “It’s Sarah, Jareth’s…uhmmm wife,” she finished awkwardly. It was still difficult thinking of herself as such. “Do you have a minute?”

“Of course,” came Brigid’s smiling face. “I am dying to hear about the hearing, and your timing couldn’t be better. There are three children here at Elspeth’s House who are all teething, and they are currently competing to see who can scream the loudest about it. It’s impossible to get a thing done.”

“Can’t you cast a silencing bubble, like Jareth does?” Sarah asked.

“No, like Ana, I am only partly Fae, too much human blood for any real magic.”

“Ahhhh,” said Sarah, understanding at last. “So you and Ana are full sisters and Jareth is the half sibling.”

“No,” Brigid corrected. “We are all half siblings.”

“Isn’t that unusual?” Sarah looked a little confused.

“Not where we’re from,” Brigid replied evasively. She hesitated, as if she was going to say more, but finally looked away.

Sarah picked up on the obvious social cue immediately. “So, the reason I’m calling,” Sarah stated smoothly, “is because we need a fourth for euchre this afternoon. I don’t know many people here in the Underground, but you mentioned before that you like games, so…,” she trailed off. “That is if you can get away,” Sarah interjected as she heard distant screaming resume.

Brigid looked as if she were a drowning woman and Sarah had just thrown her a lifeline.

“Call me back in five minutes from one of the floor length mirrors,” Brigid said with a beaming smile.

“Okay.”

As long as she was in the bedroom, Sarah used the five minutes to change out of her Goblin Queen attire and into something less intimidating, opting for the emerald knock off dress and the gray slippers. She removed the diadem but left her hair up, not having the time to fuss with it. Precisely five minutes later, she called Brigid from the full length mirror in the corner of the bedroom, and looked startled as the red-haired woman stepped through the glass and into the room, looking a little harried and a trifle mussed.

She grinned mischievously at Sarah. “Oh, you have no idea how good it is to get away for a while. I adore children, but…,” she sighed with some exasperation.

“I had no idea you could do that,” Sarah gasped in awe.

“Not everyone can. Jareth allows very few people to use the mirrors as portals. I am one of the,” and here she held up her fingers to make air quotes, “privileged few.” She smiled. "So who is your fourth player?” she asked as they started downstairs.

“Jareth’s…well, I guess our solicitor would be more correct. His name’s Tieran. He’s something of a workaholic, I guess, but he’s really good at what he does,” said Sarah, as she proceeded to fill Brigid in quickly about the events of the day.

“I’m so sorry,” Brigid said with deep sympathy in her eyes.

Sarah nodded. “I’d just like to forget about it for a while. I’ll have lots of time to think about it later. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much tonight,” she said, resigned.

Brigid nodded with compassion as they reached Jareth’s study.

Sarah poked her head in. “Hey, it’s gorgeous outside. How about tea and cards in the conservatory? We can open all of those glass doors.”

The men nodded and rose from their seats.

“Oh, Tieran, this is Brigid, Jareth’s sister. Brigid, this is Tieran, our solicitor,” Sarah said as she made quick introductions.

Sarah stepped back quickly and watched. Well, damn. Her magic was right. As the two Fae stared awkwardly at one another, little hearts and flowers metaphorically began flying between the two.

Jareth pinned Sarah with a hard glare. Bogdammit! His sneaky little wife was matchmaking. He sighed. This had better not come back to bite him in the ass.

The awkwardness cleared after a few minutes, and they proceeded to have a lovely tea and several games of euchre, that turned into dinner and after dinner drinks and a few more games of euchre. As the clock struck midnight, which Sarah now thought of as 13:00, both Tieran and Brigid started making noises about going home.

“Oh, Brigid,” Sarah said with concern, “how will you get home? Is there someone to open the mirror portal on that side? I’m not really sure how this works.” Sarah said as she glanced speculatively at Tieran.

“I will be happy to see the Lady Brigid home,” said the Fae solicitor.

As the happy couple vanished, Jareth pinned Sarah with a hard stare.

“Admit it,” he demanded. “You’ve been matchmaking.”

Sarah shrugged, “So what if I have been? Where’s the harm?”

Jareth sighed. “Sarah, think this through. That woman is my sister. That man is our solicitor. If things go badly between them, we may have to secure new counsel in the midst of all of this legal mess, which could jeopardize our case. And, we will have to deal with my distraught, weeping sister who will blame us for her anguish. There are some things Fae just do not meddle in,” he said, his frustration palpable.

Sarah looked away. Jareth had a point.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through. You told me to listen to my magic, so I thought…” Sarah trailed off as she felt Jareth’s gloved hand tilt her chin to his face.

“Your magic told you to do this?” he asked, and something about the way he said it let Sarah know this was a loaded question.

“Yes,” she whispered, as she watched thoughts play across his pale, blue eyes. “Should I have ignored my magic?” she asked at last.

“No,” he replied heavily. “Never ignore your magic.”

“What’s wrong then?” Sarah was becoming nervous.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up,” he said finally. “I will need to peruse some of the old texts. It may be nothing.”

Sarah sighed but didn’t press him. There was no point. She had plenty to think about after the hearing today. Besides, Jareth divulged information in his own time, anyway.


	34. 34

Chapter 34

“Jareth,” Sarah hesitated as she made a last glance at the lit candles on the nightstand.

“Hmmmm…,” came the sleepy reply.

“What should I do about Toby? What do I say to Karen and my dad? How do I undo the pain I’ve caused?”

Jareth sighed and gave up on sleep. She was working herself into a lovely emotional state.

“You don’t. There is nothing more to say. You said what you needed to say in the courtroom. They don’t believe you.”

“So you think I should just give up on Toby, on my family?” she said, a hint of distress creeping into her voice.

“No, I don’t think words are going to fix this. Just as words have consequences, so do actions. You will have to show your family that you’ve changed. It will take longer and require more of an effort on your part, but you are going to have to demonstrate to them that you’ve changed. As soon as your Fae transformation is complete, you will need to start visiting Toby and your family and show them who you are now, who you’ve become.”

“What if Karen’s right? What if I have damaged him?”

Jareth snorted. “Highly unlikely. He’s what…ten months old, twelve? The likelihood that he will remember a thing you’ve said to him is almost nil. Nevertheless, if he does remember, I can remove those memories from him.”

”You’d just tamper with his mind?” Sarah asked incredulously.

“Yes,” replied Jareth bluntly. “By the time he reaches an age where he can decide for himself if he wants those memories, they will have already potentially done damage to his psyche. If he does remember, I will remove those memories and be done with it, unless you have a very persuasive argument to the contrary. No child should ever grow up feeling that he was anything other than loved and cared for,” Jareth stated emphatically.

He was actually looking out for Toby, Sarah realized, and although his tactics were high handed, his logic was unassailable. She couldn’t fault him for his compassion. Without conscious thought, she turned over and snuggled into Jareth, letting his warmth and the scent of his magic envelop her. As he held her and murmured soft reassurances, she felt exhaustion creep upon her. It was very late, and between that and the earlier emotional bloodletting, she felt like a limp dishrag that had been twisted repeatedly and put through the wringer so many times that every fiber was frayed. With Jareth’s lips on her forehead, she slipped into sleep.

In the morning, she was surprised at how well she had slept. As usual, Jareth was up and gone long before she awoke. She dragged herself into the shower, dressed in her yoga pants, a t-shirt, and her Nike’s, and headed down for breakfast. The staff knew about all of it, the trial, her mother’s betrayal; her magic crackled an electric warning. She could feel their eyes on her as she walked down the stairs and hear their whispers as she picked listlessly at her food.

Unable to bear their scrutiny any longer, she bolted from the table and into the labyrinth. And promptly got lost. She shrugged and decided that she really couldn’t care less. An hour later, she threw herself down into the soft moss at the base of a massive tree and wallowed in self pity for a while. One decision, one stupid lust-filled decision had brought all of this misery. If she had been able to keep her pants on, then what…? None of this would have happened.

If she had rejected the Goblin King, what would the outcome have been? He wouldn’t have been able to help her. The only thing protecting her now was that she was another man’s wife in this strange world, and therefore, could not bear Erlinwold a legitimate child. If she had refused Jareth, would her next encounter with the Underground have been on her eighteenth birthday when Erlinwold had come to claim her? She would have had no friends to help her, no magic, no idea how to petition the High Fae Court for help.

Was that whispering voice in the back of her mind the night she had lost her virginity…was that her magic? Had this been the best course of action for her? Sarah sighed, uncertain. That decision had ultimately brought so much pain. To know that you are unloved by your own mother, and that from the moment of conception, you are nothing more than a form of payment in a magical barter system… it preyed on the mind.

Worst of all was what she had done to Toby. She prayed fervently that he wouldn’t remember his sister shouting at him how much she hated him. Karen was right. She had been cruel, and she should have stopped to think how her words could rip apart his world, damage his burgeoning sense of self.

Jareth had taught her just a bit too late that words have consequences.

She would have preferred to have remained ignorant. No child needs to know that she is unloved. But, really, even if the contract had never come to light, Linda Williams wasn’t that good of an actress. Sarah had already begun to suspect her mother didn’t love her; she never wanted Sarah to visit, never called, wasn’t interested in Sarah’s life, forgot her birthdays—hell, she didn’t even know how old Sarah was. No, she couldn’t blame that decision for the knowledge that her mother didn’t love her. It was inevitable that Sarah would come to this realization.

As to her predicament with Toby, a part of her wished that she didn’t know, hadn’t realized what she was doing to him. But, if things hadn’t worked out as they had, she would either be at a boarding school feeling alone and unwanted, if her parents could have found the money for it, or Karen would have filed for divorce by now. Sarah had had periods before where she had been nice to Toby, when she wanted something from her father and Karen. It never lasted. Even if she had gone home after the ordeal of the Labyrinth, and her change in behavior was sincere, her track record was against her, and they wouldn’t have believed her.

She could tell from Karen’s behavior after the hearing yesterday. She didn’t believe Sarah now, and she wouldn’t have then either. So, the only option left open to her was to implement Jareth’s plan and show them slowly, over time, that she had changed.

The strange domino effect, the sequencing of occurrences, it begged the question, were any of these events even in her control? Once Jareth had realized she was his true mate, he had been determined to claim her at all costs. Once she had accepted him, Jareth could no longer see her future because it was so entwined with his own. He could see through time, and he said that some outcomes, once certain events were set in motion, became foregone conclusions, almost impossible to change.

Was this part of her life not within her control? Had her mother’s lust for fame and stardom started Sarah down a road from which she could not deviate once she had given the Goblin King her virginity? Sarah was getting a headache and the pulsing light wasn’t helping. She rolled over and squinted at the pulsing blue and white orb that hung in mid air a few feet away.


	35. 35

Chapter 35

“You’re the Labyrinth, aren’t you?” Sarah sized it up, finding it oddly disconcerting to talk to an energy ball.

“We are,” the ball replied in a flat, even, inflectionless voice. “You are Sarah Williams,” it stated factually.

“Yes, I am,” Sarah nodded. “Why are you using the plural form of address? You seem to be just one thing.”

“We are more,” replied Labyrinth.

“I don’t understand,” Sarah said. “More than what?”

“More than one,” said Labyrinth. “We are all of the various magics represented in the Underground. We are its history, its collective memory, the thoughts and feelings of millions of magic wielders throughout time. We are Labyrinth.”

“So, you’re like a hive mind of all of these different things?” Sarah asked, struggling to understand.

“In simple terms, yes. We are much more, but in the limited frame of reference you possess, that would be the most apt description.”

Sarah nodded. She now had some understanding of Jareth’s reticence to discuss the Labyrinth. It was kind of creepy.

“So, uhmmmm….what did you want to talk about?” Sarah asked with some trepidation, wishing Jareth were here to act as a buffer.

“We wished to meet you. We are curious. The Goblin King has bedded many females but has never taken one as mate since the human known as Nicolaa died. We want to know what you offer as Goblin Queen.”

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know yet,” she answered honestly. “I’m not even sure I’m cut out for this. Hell,” Sarah muttered, “I’m not even sure I want to live in the Underground. You …uhmmmm…wouldn’t know how to break a Faelium bond, would you?”

Labyrinth pulsed. “Yes,” it replied.

“You do?” Sarah asked incredulously. How?” she demanded, breathless with excitement.

Labyrinth pulsed. “In its first year, the Faelium may be broken by the death of one of the mates.”

“Not helpful,” replied Sarah on a long sigh. ”I don’t suppose you know anything useful, do you?”

Labyrinth pulsed. “We know many useful things. Specify.”

“You know, it’s really difficult to have a conversation with you.”

“Why?” Labyrinth pulsed.

“Well for one,” began Sarah, “it’s just weird talking to a ball of energy.”

“Is this better, Sarah Williams?” queried Labyrinth. She turned quickly and Jareth stood before her, resplendent in full goblin king armor. A closer look showed a shimmer of blue around his form.

“No,” Sarah replied harshly.

“Why not?”

“Because I associate that form with the Goblin King. You need your own separate identity,” Sarah insisted.

Sarah watched as the Labyrinth tried on the forms of Hoggle, Sprog, and finally herself before she finally grew frustrated.

“No,” she said insistently. “Can’t you just make up your own form?”

“No,” replied Labyrinth, and Sarah realized that it lacked the imaginative capabilities to perform such a task.

“Why don’t you pick the image of a sentient life-form that lives at least two hundred miles away from here, someone I am unlikely to ever meet in real life, and copy that form?” Sarah suggested finally, hoping that she had been specific enough.

The Labyrinth seemed to pulse as if in deep thought and then finally morphed into the image of a young Fae girl, about nine years of age, dressed as a farm girl with blonde pigtails tied with bright red bows.

“Very good,” Sarah praised. “You should smile and thank someone when they give you a compliment,” Sarah instructed.

Labyrinth thought for a moment and examined its memories. Sarah William was correct. Labyrinth smiled and thanked her. This could be an informative exercise, Labyrinth decided. It would keep this form for a while.

“So, how long have you known Jareth?” Sarah asked. “We have known him since the sixth of….”

“Sorry,” Sarah interrupted, “the date wouldn’t mean anything to me. What event brought Jareth to your attention?” Sarah clarified.

“He ran the labyrinth. We were most impressed when he defeated Tryvek in single combat.”

“Was that the old Goblin King?” Sarah asked. “No, Tryvek was the Captain of the Elite Goblin Brigade. The Goblin King sent him to engage the runner in mortal combat. It was the final challenge. None other had ever bested Tryvek. Jareth won but sustained mortal wounds. Even so, he refused the kill and allowed Tryvek to live.”

“That’s brutal,” Sarah exclaimed. “How could he do that to a boy?” Sarah cried indignantly as she recalled Ana telling her that Jareth had only been about thirteen or fourteen at the time.

“The Goblin King wanted to know if he was willing to die for his sisters, if he was willing to kill when it was not necessary. In passing the Goblin King’s test, he was deemed worthy to be the heir,” said the Labyrinth dispassionately.

“That was cruel,” Sarah said.

“It was effective,” Labyrinth replied. “The Goblin King approaches,” Labyrinth observed.

Sarah saw a white barn owl and remembered briefly the terror she had felt when she had last seen it. It morphed smoothly into the Goblin King as it dove in for a landing.

“This is new,” he stated as he took in the Labyrinth’s new form. “It suits you.”

“It was a suggestion of Sarah Williams,” replied the Labyrinth. “She seems to prefer this form.”

“Yes, I see you’ve met the Goblin Queen,” Jareth said mildly, but with a hint of iron stressing the title.

“Sarah Williams is not yet certain she is the Goblin Queen. We are not yet certain she is the Goblin Queen,” Labyrinth replied calmly.

“I am certain,” Jareth replied firmly.

“We will know soon,” Labyrinth stated enigmatically. “It comes.”

“Can it be averted?” Jareth asked with resignation, as if knowing the answer beforehand.

“No,” confirmed Labyrinth. “She will be tested soon.”

“What can you tell me?” Jareth asked.

Sarah thought she heard a note of desperation in his voice.

“Only this,” replied Labyrinth as the image of the little girl began to fade away, “Sarah Williams will learn the final lesson, the one the dwarf deprived her of. And in so learning, she will either become the Goblin Queen or the Goblin Kingdom will fall.”

At that, Labyrinth vanished completely, leaving Jareth and Sarah alone. Jareth looked stricken, anguish in his eyes.

“What comes?” Sarah whispered at last.

“War,” came the harsh response of the Goblin King as he vanished in a shower of glitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, author will shamelessly beg for feedback. Really, it helps me become a better writer if you let me know what I've done well and what I can do to improve.
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger of sorts. Please don't flambe me.


	36. 36

Chapter 36

**_War_** , Sarah thought to herself. A war was coming. When? Did it have something to do with her? What lesson?

She needed answers and she needed them now. Surely, from what Labyrinth had said, this pertained to her. Would Jareth still answer all questions if the answers involved her in some way? She was determined to find out. It was surprising how quickly she navigated the labyrinth when she set her will to it.

In less than half an hour, she found herself at Jareth’s study. She let herself in quickly, startled to find Hoggle and Sir Didymus already inside.

“Hey guys,” she called out happily as she stepped forward and bent to hug them. The smile left her face quickly as they looked away.

Jareth cleared his throat. “I will send your friends to you when we have concluded our business,” he stated, rising from his desk chair to show her out.

Sarah didn’t need magic to realize that there was something very serious going on.

“I’d rather stay,” she replied.

The Goblin King studied her, his mismatched eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts.

“Very well,” he said as he changed direction and brought a third chair for Sarah. “But you must not interrupt. Agreed?”

Sarah nodded, and Jareth inclined his head in acknowledgement of her silent promise. She watched Jareth resume his seat, fear clawing at her.

He leaned forward and pinned Hoggle and Didymus with a hard stare.

“I have given a great deal of thought to your punishment,” he began.

Sarah’s eyes widened, but she swallowed back her questions. The fox and the dwarf looked down, clearly ashamed.

“You, Hoggle, you defied a direct order from your king and in so doing you deprived a runner of a lesson she desperately needed to learn. And you,” his hard gaze travelled to Sir Didymus, “you abandoned your post without orders, a deserter. You know the standard punishment is banishment for such offenses.”

Here Sarah let out a small cry, unable to remain silent any longer. She was going to beg for her friends; he could see it in her eyes.

“However,” he continued smoothly before she could break down, “I offer you a chance to redeem yourselves.”

At this both the dwarf and the fox looked up, hopeful. Sarah found she was holding her breath and let it out softly.

“War is coming. I know that you, as a soldier, are aware of this,” he said with a nod toward Didymus.

Sir Didymus nodded. “I have heard rumors, Sire.”

“They are true. I have foreseen it, and the Labyrinth confirmed my vision. It cannot be averted. So far as I can tell, it is at least a few months off, which is where you come in. I offer you this chance only because I believe you remain loyal to the Goblin Kingdom, with a particular loyalty to Her Majesty,” he said as he raised a hand and indicated Sarah.

She sat stock still, barely daring to breathe, not knowing what was coming but afraid nevertheless.

“With war coming, I need information, and two disgruntled, banished, ex-citizens of the Goblin Kingdom would be in a unique position to gather such information.” Jareth looked closely at both subjects. “Do you understand?”

“Spies, ya mean,” said Hoggle at last. “Ya wants us to go into the Troll Kingdom and spy.”

“Yes, just so,” the King replied. “And I will need your answer now. If you agree, you will become smugglers, trafficking in stolen merchandise and information. I will send a contact to meet with you every fortnight at a pre-selected location near the border. If not, I will erase your memories of this conversation, and it will be as if it never happened. I will give you a moment to think about it,” so saying Jareth rose and walked out of the room in silence.

Sarah looked at her friends, anguish in her eyes. “I can try…maybe I can …’” she began.

“No, My Lady,” said Sir Didymus. “We must take responsibility for our actions, and I for one, will not refuse an offer of redemption. If I can help keep you safe, I will.”

“Yeah,” Hoggle interjected. “Jareth’s a schemin’ rat, but he’s a pretty good king, an’ he’s right. I do love this place; my only friends are here,” he said softly, looking askance at Sarah.

Sarah let the tears slip free then as she hugged her friends, knowing this was goodbye.


	37. 37

Chapter 37

After Sir Didymus and Hoggle had left to put their affairs in order, Sarah rounded on Jareth.

“How could you?” she demanded. “How could you use them this way? They could be killed!” she exclaimed.

Jareth was growing frustrated with what he viewed as a childish tantrum.

“Death is an absolute certainty in war,” he replied pragmatically. “Do you think I want to do this, send two of my subjects into mortal danger? I need information, Sarah, if I am to protect the nearly half million other subjects of this kingdom. As I am involved in this war, my foresight is very limited. As a monarch, you must learn that sometimes the ends do justify the means,” he said as he strode down the hallway to make arrangements for his new spies.

Sarah couldn’t believe it. How had things gotten so out of control? She retreated to the kitchen, loaded a tray and set off for the bedroom to eat alone in silence. She had been right. The Underground really was a horrible place.

After lunch, she lay on the bed and tried to read. For the last week she had been in charge of her own education with the departure of her previous tutor, Professor Quintus. Jareth hadn’t wanted Ana to start until after the hearing. Now, she wasn’t sure she wanted Ana to start at all. But, it seemed not to matter what she wanted. Maybe it would never matter again.

She turned her head as she heard the door open and shut quickly. Jareth crossed the room and sat on the bed behind her. He leaned back against the headboard and crossed his ankles. Sarah had the distinct impression he was settling in for a while. She waited.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last.

That was the last thing she had expected from the arrogant Goblin King.

“I was…harsh…with you,” he continued.

Sarah struggled into a sitting position; she mimicked Jareth’s posture, staring forward at the wall. “Yeah, yeah you were,” she agreed and then sighed, “but,…I do kinda see your point. It isn’t fair though.”

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed.

She was grateful he spared her a mocking response; he had, after all, been the one to drive home the lesson that life isn’t fair.

“Isn’t there another way?” she begged. “I can’t bear it. If I’m responsible for the deaths of my friends…,” she trailed off.

“I am responsible for sending them into harm’s way, not you, Sarah.”

“But I’m kind of responsible for this war. Erlinwar wants me. My friends, they’re going because of me. Would it stop if …if I went to the Troll Kingdom?” she shuddered.

“No. Erlinwar is not the driving force behind this, Erlinwold is. Erlinwar has largely stepped down, although he has not yet abdicated in favor of his eldest son. Erlinwold views women as interchangeable. They are less than animals to him. The magic he covets is the Labyrinth, not you. He seeks a shortcut to magic his father was unwilling to take. Erlinwar believed that he could breed magic into the Troll monarchy, but with the long lifespans here in the Underground, and the limited births…” Jareth shrugged. “It will take time. Not only is Erlinwold unwilling to wait, he does not really care about seeing magic in his heirs. He wants to wield powerful magic of his own. This has been coming for some time, Sarah. In choosing to deny Erlinwold his claiming, it may have accelerated events, but it did not cause this. And your death will not stop it.”

Sarah sighed with relief.

“I had thought that Lindell might be the match that lights the powder keg,” he continued, his thoughts wandering. “I am just not sure. The current limitations of my foresight….,” he trailed off.

“I don’t think I can do this, Jareth. How can I be the Goblin Queen if it means I have to decide who gets to live and who has to die? I thought being a queen was glamorous and fun-- balls and tea parties and charity luncheons. I didn’t expect this. I never gave a serious thought about what it really means to be a leader,” she whispered as she looked at his profile.

“You’ll do it the same way every monarch of the Goblin Kingdom has done it. You’ll struggle. You’ll do the best you can with the information you have available at the time. You’ll make mistakes and learn from them. You’ll ask for help when you need it and take advantage of every resource available to you. You will give your heart and soul to your people, and you will never ask another to give more than you are willing to give yourself. If you ask another to go into battle, you will know that you are just as willing to die if it means the well-being of your subjects.”

“I don’t know that I can,” Sarah said at last. “You do this so easily. You’re cut out for this. I’m not.”

“I’m cut out for this now. I’ve had a lot of time to get it mostly right.” He grinned a self-deprecating smile.

“Will you ever tell me how you became the Goblin King, about your life before, your mother…why you had no other options but to wish yourself and your sisters to the goblins?”

“Yes,” he said at last. “Brigid and Ana are right. You do need to know before someone else tells you one of the misinformed versions. I will tell you tonight,” he said at last with a resigned sigh. “With several caveats,” he continued.

Sarah nodded. “No tears and no pity, and you must try not to think less of me after you hear it.”

“Okay,” she said at last. “Deal.” Sarah wondered what she was getting herself into as Jareth quickly swung his legs off of the bed and exited the bedroom.

**********

The rest of the day passed slowly; Sarah felt as if she was simply biding her time, anxious for night to come, for the final piece of the story to be told. On the other hand, the more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt. Jareth didn’t want to talk about it, and she knew to bring this ancient history out into the open was going to cause him pain.

She sighed, went down to the library, and went back to reading. It was technically time for her to practice her magic, but she was so emotionally wrung out that she was fairly certain she would lack the necessary control. She was just about to give up on An Introduction to the Politics of the Thirteen Kingdoms, when a soft knock came. Rising from her chair in the library, Sarah opened the door to find Meep, flanked by the rest of the household staff, and the ‘special’ castle goblins. They crowded around her, filling the entryway and spilling into the library.

“Your Majesty,” began Meep as several of the goblins wearing hats, colanders, and various pots and pans took off their headgear in a show of respect. “We heard about the hearing. And, we just wanted…all of us…to let you know that we want you.”

Several of the goblins were heard to murmur, “yeah,” unh hunh,” and various other affirmations.

“We love you, and you belong here with us,” Meep continued.

“Make King happy,” offered Sprog. “Hasn’t bogged anyone since you been here.”

They crowded around Sarah, their eyes shining, as she blinked back the tears in her eyes. She hadn’t done anything much—made an effort to be kind, read the goblins a few stories now and then, slipped them a few cookies.

A couple of tears slipped free as she murmured her thanks and bent to give them hugs. After they left, her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. She tossed the book aside and set to conjuring with a vengeance.

After dinner she waited, anxiously waiting to take her cue from Jareth. They usually either played a game or danced in the garden, sometimes both. Tonight he simply offered her his hand and began leading her to the bedroom. As they reached the foot of the marble staircase, she pulled her hand away.

“You don’t have to,” she whispered. He looked confused and simply quirked a brow and waited. “Dance with me,” she said, as she reached forward and tugged his hand trying to lead him toward the garden.

He let her tug on his hand, but he made no move to follow.

“Sarah, you wanted this. Are you now afraid of what you’re going to hear?”

“No,” she replied as she stopped tugging and stepped closer to him until only a scant few inches separated them. “I’m afraid I’ve pushed you into doing something you don’t really want to do. I don’t want to put you through the pain I know this is going to cause. It just…feels forced,” she finished. “I’d rather wait ‘til you’re ready to tell me.”

“Sarah,” he said gently, “I’m ready to tell you.”

This time it was he who tugged on her hand as he led her up the stairs to their bedroom. It was early yet, but she readied herself for bed, leaving Jareth to compose his thoughts.


	38. 38

Chapter 38

As Sarah settled into bed, Jareth lay beside her and at last began to speak.

“Do you remember when you called me a bastard? No,” he said after a brief hesitation. “I’ll have to go back further. Much of my story actually begins long before my birth. As you already know, my mother’s name was Elspeth. She was the daughter of a local farmer in a rural town in what is now southern Ireland. It was not an easy life, but they had enough to get by—not as well off as the nobility, but better off than most. Their fortunes improved somewhat when the son of one of the nobles took an interest in her. She was quite beautiful, but more than that, she was a kind girl with a good heart. They were soon betrothed. One day in the early fall, she went into the woods to gather mushrooms and herbs. Unfortunately for her, one of the Fae was also out that day. He attempted to seduce her, but she refused him and ran. He gave chase.”

Sarah tensed, afraid now of where this was going. Jareth felt her tension and smiled grimly.

“Yes, that is exactly what happened. He was the privileged son of a fine Fae household. No mere chit of a human girl had the right to refuse him. He raped her and left her lying in the dirt. Terribly frightened, she cleaned herself as best she could and was determined never to speak of it, a plan that probably would have worked had she not conceived a child.”

“You,” Sarah whispered.

“Me,” Jareth confirmed. “The evidence of the attack eventually became something she could no longer conceal. Her family demanded to know who the father was. She told them the truth. Humans then feared the Fae, feared magic. Her betrothed refused to marry her; she was sullied goods now, and her family cast her out for bringing shame on their household. She was fifteen summers at the time. I was born in a cave; she birthed me on her own, no midwife, and no help—alone and in terrible pain. Fae babies tend to be large. I don’t know how much history you have been taught, but there were very few resources available for a single woman with a child. There was really only one occupation open to her. History calls them everything from prostitutes and whores to fallen doves. I spent much of my early childhood in a makeshift brothel, until my mother met a mercenary named Edward, although he pronounced it Edvard. I was never certain if that was his name or a result of his accent.”

He paused to sigh deeply. “Edward convinced my mother to join him. All mercenary bands had camp followers. Some were the personal women of particular mercenaries. The ones not so fortunate were for the use of the entire camp. Edward treated us relatively well, and for a time, I believe my mother was happy. I cannot prove it, but I believe Edward was Brigid’s father. They looked very alike, the curly red hair and green eyes. When Brigid was about seven summers, Edward was killed in a raid orchestrated by a nearby village in an attempt to steal food for the winter.”

Sarah blinked back tears. “Poor Brigid,” she whispered.

“You have to remember that people then lived in loose, tribal confederations, no real central authority, no government to speak of except the squabbling local nobles, who lived in nearly as much squalor as their subjects. Overnight, my mother went from being the personal property of Edward to being a camp follower available to one and all. Life became more difficult for us all, especially her. To this day, I am uncertain of Ana’s paternity. After Ana’s birth, my mother’s health began to decline, and within a few months, she lay dying. I was unaware of this at the time. I had been sent on my first real series of campaigns, and by the time I returned, she was gone. In retrospect, I don’t know how she managed it. She loved me, of that I am very certain. How she could love me and provide for me when every year I increasingly grew to resemble her rapist, I do not know.”

Jareth paused and conjured a bottle of brandy. After a long swallow, he continued.

“It was after her death that I first heard of the wished away and the Goblin King. One of the other camp followers told Brigid the story of _Der Kobold Teufel_ …literally translated it means The Goblin Devil. I began to ask about the story and learned that several of the women in camp had heard the same myths, even though they were from different tribes, a few as far away as what is now Germany and France. When I came across my own captain trying to rape my sister, I killed him. I took my sisters, and we fled. I now had no choice. Ana needed a wet nurse or she would not survive. I made the wish, which ultimately brought us here,” he waved his hand to indicate the castle.

He took another long swallow of the amber liquor and continued. “As Ana told you, I ran the labyrinth for the right to place my sisters. What I did not realize was that the Goblin King was looking for an heir and had been for some time. The test was brutal. I thought at first that I was lucky when he selected me to succeed him. I came to believe, however, that he was the devil and that I was in hell. I’ve seen you squint. I know that, at times, you see through the glamour to the scars across my back.”

He looked at her, his eyes narrowed. She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.

“The Goblin King was determined to break me and recast me in his own image. Although to the Fae I was a child, I was used to being treated as an adult. I rebelled. I was illiterate, angry, dirty, and more than a little psychologically damaged. He saw nothing wrong with beating those traits out of me with a horsewhip studded with iron rivets. He used his magic to bind me, and then he would beat me whenever I failed to live up to his expectations.”

Sarah gasped, pressing her hands to her lips to keep from crying out. She remembered his earlier words about understanding what it was like to be weak and vulnerable to magic. It gave her a much different perspective on his actions when she realized the thirteen-year-old Jareth would have very likely been immensely grateful for fifteen hours of sleep and for someone to take away his pain.

Another long drink and Jareth continued. “It was then that the castle goblins, bless them, went to the Summer Queen, for I was determined that he would beat me to death before I broke. She intervened, took me to the Summer Palace, healed me, and convinced me with kindness that I wanted to be literate, that I wanted to learn magic. Through a combination of psychology and subtle rewards, she shaped me into a Fae fit to govern. Clever woman,” he praised her.

“She knew my passion was to be a warrior. She held out sword fighting lessons, classes in combat tactics, and hand-to-hand combat like carrots in front of a starving donkey, and I trotted dutifully behind. What the Goblin King could not accomplish by force, she did with intelligence and compassion.”

“The scars,” Sarah whispered. “If she healed you…?”

“I chose to keep them. They are a reminder always about using brute force to get what you want.”

Sarah sat silently and stared hard at her hands, twisted in her lap. “What happened to your father? Do you know?”

“Oh yes,” Jareth smiled cruelly. “I killed him.”

Sarah’s eyes widened as Jareth continued. “After Nicolaa died, I continued to train as I searched for him. I learned that the magic in the blood of a Fae calls out to family. When I found him, he not only did not deny it, he boastfully admitted to it, pleased to have sired a son. Under ancient Fae law, I challenged him. Dueling is frowned upon now but was quite common then. Fae can be hot-headed at times. Usually duelists fight to first blood, regardless of whether the caveat _To the Death_ is invoked or not. I will not describe to you what I did to him. I was a trained soldier, a mercenary quite skilled with a blade; he was a soft, foolish lordling playing with a sword. I was determined that he would suffer. Up until the end, I believe he truly thought I would let him live.”

Jareth took another long drink, and Sarah noticed that the bottle was more than half empty now. “Unknown to me at the time, Ana had followed me that night. Who told her about the duel, I, to this day, do not know. She saw everything. I felt nothing when I killed him. But, my heart broke when I saw the fear in her eyes. She was afraid of me.”

Another long drink. “Nevertheless, she brought me home, cleaned me up—I was covered with his blood. I was in a kind of numb stupor.” Jareth shrugged, and Sarah was fairly certain he was going to finish that bottle.

“Jareth, do Fae get alcohol poisoning?” Sarah asked with concern. “Do you want me to get you some water or something?”

He laughed. “I suppose we could. It would take a lot more than this, though,” he said as he shook the nearly empty bottle slightly. “I won’t be attempting any higher level sorcery, but otherwise I’m fine.”

Sarah nodded, but she was still worried; his definition of fine was a far sight different than hers.

He could see her worry in the concerned little glances she darted his way. He sighed and put the cork back in the bottle, setting it on the nightstand.

“Why didn’t the High Fae Council punish him for what he did? They were certainly willing to prosecute you with a lot less evidence or reason.”

He sighed. “There were several factors at play. My mother was a human of no special significance to anyone. You are a daughter of the powerful House of Tuatha De Danaan. You are, or rather will be, Fae very soon. _My father_ , and I use that term loosely, was a minor member of Fae nobility, and while I am a king, I have no royal blood, and I also have enemies among the royals and the High Fae Houses. You will come to see that justice can be selectively enforced among the Fae, just as it is in the Above. To a certain extent, rank doth have its privileges.”

He glanced briefly at the brandy bottle on the nightstand, sighed and crossed his arms.

“Do you regret it?” she asked at last.

“No, but then again, I had no illusions about what I was doing or why. I realize that many people who seek revenge think it will make them feel better and are surprised when it does not. For me, there was an element of revenge, but it was more about justice. He committed heinous crimes. My mother was not his only victim, you know. When you get away with something once, why not do it again and again, since there are no consequences? There are some crimes that the only adequate punishment, the only thing one can offer in recompense, is his life. When I am in a particularly maudlin mood, I wonder how many other half siblings I had, how many had children, how many family members I would have if I went looking for them. So, now you know,” he said at last. “You’re bonded to a killer, and not just any killer, one who has also committed patricide.”

He settled back and waited.

Sarah’s thoughts careened through her mind. It was a lot to take in. She looked at him then and realized he was waiting for her condemnation, for her to pass judgment. Had he told her this a month ago, it would have been different. Her paradigm of the world then was so very black and white, still very much a child’s view of right and wrong. In retrospect, all of the events that had occurred since she had been in the Underground, the claiming, learning of the contracts, the hearing, they had all shown her that right and wrong were almost always shades of gray, that truth was a matter of perspective, and that sometimes the ends did justify the means.

If it were her, had she lived Jareth’s life, would she have done the same thing? Hell, she had learned of Erlinwold’s treatment of women and expressed a fervent desire for his death. And if she were being completely honest, she was deadly serious about it.

Was she really any different than Jareth?

Did she really have any right to judge him? She recalled his words. He wanted neither her pity nor her tears. She moved then, scooting over in the bed until she was pressed against his side, curled toward him, her weight on her right hip.

Startled, he turned his head to look at her. She reached up gently, cupped his face, leaned forward and kissed him, trying to convey her acceptance, her understanding, and to offer comfort. Silent tears slid down her face, tears she could not prevent, and he brushed them from her cheeks as she broke the kiss.

For just a moment, she was certain she saw relief in his eyes, and then he tucked her head under his chin, waved a hand to extinguish the candles, and fell asleep holding her.

Sarah lay awake a long time, struggling to come to terms with the changes in herself as she realized that she was growing up, maybe a little faster than she had ever intended to.


	39. 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just enough time to get one chapter posted over lunch. Hope you enjoy. Warning, this one is rated a Hard E.

Chapter 39

 

When she awoke, it was nearly 7:00 a.m., so she reached over and shut the alarm off. She was about to get up, when she realized that she wasn’t alone. Jareth was usually long gone, his side of the bed cold to the touch, when she got up. Not this morning.

He must be sleeping off the alcohol, she decided, when she saw the now empty brandy bottle on the nightstand. At some point last night, he must have awakened and killed the bottle, not that there had been very much left in it. He had said that he was ready to tell her, but from the sheer amount of alcohol he had consumed, she suspected that since he couldn’t outright lie, he had been deluding himself.

That thought was soon followed by a much more troubling one. If he had been deluding himself about the emotional toll of that conversation, could he have been mistaken about the impact of the alcohol as well? Could he have alcohol poisoning? She leaned over him, watching him closely. His breathing was slow but steady, his color appeared normal—he was a little sleep tousled but appeared otherwise fine.

She was turning to get up, when her hair swung forward and brushed his nose. He grumbled and tried to bat it away. She paused. Later when Jareth asked her, she was never able to explain why, but an impish sense of mischief possessed her at that moment.

She grasped a small hank of her hair and leaned over him again, deliberately tickling his nose. He grumbled in his sleep and swatted it away, turning his face slightly. She grinned and did it again. This time one eye opened and pinned her with an irritated glare. She stifled a giggle at the childish look of consternation he shot her. Before she could even blink, he was up, and she was pinned underneath his weight.

“So, you want to play, do you?”

He smirked, as he began to tickle her mercilessly. Sarah shrieked and tried desperately to block his attack, but grasping both of her wrists, he used one hand and his superior leverage to pin her hands above her head, leaving his other hand free to continue the assault. Her breaths were coming in gasps now, and she was begging brokenly for mercy when he changed tactics, lips descending to hers as he swallowed her whimpers and her gasp of surprise.

Heat flared between them, and she moaned low in her throat as the assault to her senses turned sensual. He kissed her with a passionate abandon that made it hard to breathe, his tongue simulating a wild, sexual mating that made her shiver with anticipation while his free hand teased and massaged her breasts and nipples through the thin material of her long, silk nightgown. She struggled then, desperate for more. Her thighs quivered as she parted her legs and pushed into his thigh, aching for contact, for friction to soothe the insistent need at her core.

He chuckled softly at her eagerness as her squirming increased. He pulled back then and pinned her with that dark, hooded gaze, a question in his eyes.

“Sarah,” he began. “Sarah,” louder and more insistent this time. “Is this alright?”

She looked at him, dazed for a moment as he squeezed her wrists gently. It dawned on her then that he was asking if it was okay if he held her down. She flushed then as the full import of his question penetrated the lust filled fog of her brain. Truth be told, it excited her in a way she couldn’t explain, so she simply nodded.

He grinned wolfishly, letting his mouth follow the trail his hand had blazed earlier, licking and sucking her nipples through the thin gown, until they were thoroughly wetted, and the taut peaks strained obscenely at the now nearly translucent material, pebbling as he blew over the wet flesh. She was steadily moaning now, rocking her hips against him.

As he ministered to her breasts, he allowed his free hand to wander downward, tickling the smooth, creamy flesh of her thighs and finally cupping her sex through the damp, slick, satin panties. He cupped her firmly, letting her press her overheated, aroused flesh against his palm, but he made no move to provide the friction she needed as he continued to tease her.

He tugged at her panties then, confounded things; they were most uncooperative. Well, there were certain benefits to magic, weren’t there? He sent the offending garment to the bog, and just for good measure, he sent the nightgown to join it. Now, she lay spread before him, naked and aroused, a light flush to her skin as she writhed in need.

“Precious,” he whispered sweetly, “may I use magic?” He could see her unfocused gaze fix on him for a moment. “Trust me,” he said softly in her ear as his fingers danced lightly across her slick folds.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned. “M’kay,” she murmured at last.

With that, he let go of her wrists and used his magic to bind her. It wouldn’t hold long, he knew. His concentration was not going to last, and the moment it faltered or if she struggled in earnest, she would be free. He could use a more permanent binding spell, but this was Sarah’s first foray into this type of sex play, and he would do nothing that would frighten her.

Sarah found her wrists suddenly bound to the headboard with nothing but a tickle of magic. She tested the magical bonds and realized that if she wanted to, she could break them fairly easily. Was Jareth too aroused to truly bind her? She looked at him and saw the controlled lust in his eyes. No, this was for her. She lay back, excited, eager to play this out.

“What now, Goblin King?” she taunted. “Out of ideas already?”

In retrospect, taunting a magically powerful being with centuries of sexual experience might not have been the best idea she had ever had. Of course, it didn’t turn out to be the worst idea she had ever had either.

Jareth laughed as he shifted lower, tugging her legs so that her calves draped over his shoulders. If she had thought before that he was teasing her, he now proved to her that she hadn’t a clue what he could do. His lips and tongue danced over her slick, hot flesh, teasing, licking, sucking and nibbling until she thought she would die from the pleasure of it. That’s when he began using his fingers, breaking and alternating the rhythm, stroking inside, rubbing that spot inside her, over and over until she was nearly insane with pleasure.

And each time she neared orgasm, he decreased the stimulation just enough to prevent her from reaching climax. It felt like forever, balanced on the edge of a razor sharp knife. Jareth was enjoying this, the bastard. He chuckled as she moaned, pleaded and then began swearing incoherently. He nipped her gently as she called him a ‘bastard from hell’ and then laughed at her gasp of surprised pleasure.

Her hands had come free at some point. She no longer remembered exactly when, nor did she care. They lay at her sides, twisted in the sheets as she gripped them in an effort to retain a small shred of sanity. Taking one last long, slow lick, Jareth raised his eyes to gaze at his mate. All she could do was stare at his sinfully wet mouth as he moved to cover her, his erection sliding easily between her folds to fill the aching emptiness inside her.

So over stimulated was she at that point that just the act of penetration brought on her first orgasm. Her legs tightened around his hips spasmodically as she clung to him, riding out the first waves of her pleasure. He kept moving, slow and steady, deep thrusts with a slight twisting motion, and Sarah screamed again as the next wave of orgasms hit. Like a spring that had been tightly pulled and then snapped back, Sarah recoiled hard and fast, each one of the long denied orgasms slamming into her helpless body until she was certain that she was going to die from pleasure.

Just when she thought dimly that she couldn’t survive another orgasm, she felt Jareth’s strokes becoming increasingly erratic, and with one last low prolonged groan, he spilled his pleasure inside her—holding himself upright through sheer force of will, unwilling to crush her under his weight. With the last of his strength he rolled them, so she lay sprawled over him, still joined intimately.

She closed her eyes as exhaustion took her.

Her next conscious memory was coming out of deep sleep. The room was bright with sunlight and the clock read 11:23 a.m. She groaned and sat up, still tired but also famished. She couldn’t wait for the Fae transition to be complete. _Just six more days_ , she reminded herself.

Someone had brought up a snack, some sliced fruit and finger sandwiches. Before the Fae transition, Sarah would have thought of it as a meal. Now it was the appetizer. It took just enough of an edge from her hunger to let her take a long, hot bath and hold out for lunch.

As she luxuriated in a peach scented bubble bath, she blushed. She had had sex with the Goblin King again. Although she had told him that she had come to terms with it, and she had at the time, she still felt a bit of guilt. Just a bit. It was really hard to feel bad about something that felt that freakin’ good. If she were completely honest, and there was no reason not to be—it was just her and the soap here, there were a lot of things in the Underground to like.

The adventure of it all was thrilling, her magic was strong and becoming stronger all the time as she learned to control it, and sex with Jareth was…well, there just weren’t words, but ‘wonderful’ and ‘fabulous’ came pretty darn close.

Deep down, Sarah was a realist. Although she dreamed of magic and pixie dust, her mother walking out just before her eighth birthday and the death of her grandmother from a series of strokes the year before, had left Sarah with a thorough taste of the bitterness of life. Sometimes, the only real choice was to make the best of the situation, go forward and live your life the best that you could.

And well, Sarah thought to herself as she metaphorically squashed that last bit of niggling guilt under her boot heel, if that meant that she was going to enjoy sex with her husband on a hopefully regular basis, what was really wrong with that?

She hummed as she toweled her hair dry and got ready for the day. No, she decided, what she needed to expend her energy on was the upcoming war. Jareth had told her that he had begun evacuation drills throughout the kingdom and had started to surreptitiously stockpile non-perishable food and medical supplies. The goblin army was training daily now, and he was doing all in his power to ready the kingdom for invasion without sending the general populace into a panic.

She wished there was something she could do. She hated feeling helpless, and worse yet, she felt like a burden. So, Jareth had promised that he would begin training her more fully in offensive magic, so she could, at least, have some hope of defending herself. He also intended that Athienne would begin teaching her to heal. She might be of use in triage, even if it was just a rough and ready stop gap measure that would stabilize someone enough for a real healer to take over.

Sarah sighed as she pushed open the doors to the dining hall. Disappointment arced through her when she saw that a message crystal sat in Jareth’s place. As she picked it up, she heard his words whisper into her mind.

“Sarah, I hope you slept well as you seemed very tired.” [soft chuckle] “I am meeting with the High Fae Council. Despite what my foresight has shown me and confirmation from the Labyrinth, I am attempting to get the Council to intercede, and hopefully, prevent this war. If not, I will use the meeting to reaffirm support from our allies. I will not be back in time for your lesson, but Athienne will be here this evening, barring an emergency requiring her services. If I am not back in time, I wanted to let you know that your lessons with Ana begin tomorrow morning. I will, hopefully, be back by then.”

Oh well. At least with nothing else to do, she would be getting in a lot of study time.


	40. 40

Chapter 40

When the alarm went off the next morning, Sarah was up, showered and dressed in record time. She was thrilled that she was finally going to get a teacher who shared her own enthusiasm for learning. She found Jareth in his study with their usual breakfast tray. He looked exhausted. He kissed her good morning.

Well this is new, Sarah thought to herself, and then he seated her.

“So,” Sarah began, “any progress?”

“No,” Jareth sighed. “Erlinwold sent a representative, some minister of something—a government toady so completely gullible he was able to testify under a truth spell that the Troll Kingdom is not building up their army for war. That is, of course, what the High Fae Council wanted to hear, so they have no plans to do anything.”

“What about your allies?” Sarah queried softly.

“Most are too afraid of the army Erlinwold has amassed to declare their support. Only the Summer Kingdom and the Gnome Kingdom will stand with us.”

“Well, that’s something I guess,” Sarah tried to sound optimistic.

Jareth shook his head. “The Summer Kingdom lies far to the south. With peaceful neighbors and being largely agricultural and of little strategic or political value, they have no need for a competent standing army. Their military is, at best, a joke.”

“What about the gnomes?” Sarah asked.

“Vicious fighters,” Jareth nodded approvingly, “but hardly a match for a troll warrior. No, the gnomes will be slaughtered if they enter this battle. I’m not going to sugar coat this, Sarah. For all intents and purposes, the Goblin Kingdom stands alone.”

Sarah looked at her half-eaten pastry as her stomach knotted up.

“What now?” she whispered.

“We wait,” he replied, “and prepare the best we can.”

__________________________________

When Sarah stepped through the mirror later that morning at Ana’s cottage, it was to find a well prepared teacher. There were at least a dozen books covering her kitchen table. She also had a separate chalkboard set up along with notepads, pens and some items that Sarah couldn’t name. Off to the corner, sat a tea cart with a covered tray.

Ana smiled as she asked Sarah where she wanted to begin. That same question had been digging at Sarah for the last several days, and she had an answer prepared. Sarah looked quickly through the books, pushed them all away and produced her own copy of An Introduction to the Politics of the Thirteen Kingdoms from her book bag. Sarah looked at Ana candidly.

“I need to skip all the non-essential stuff for now, no math, no science, no language arts. I need a crash course in useful subjects, politics, economics, and government. I don’t know if Jareth told you…,” Sarah trailed off, unsure of how much she should say.

Ana smiled grimly. “I know,” she said at last.

At Sarah’s startled look, she replied, “No, Jareth hasn’t told me anything. Mykah is a captain in the local militia. They’ve started calling drills almost every night…Jareth’s orders. The town merchants who deal with traders to the north are relating tales that the trolls are building an unstoppable war machine, twenty thousand strong. They say the traders whisper that they have never seen anything to compare. There is a general dread in the air, and there are rumors of government stockpiling. War is coming, and we’re all caught in the middle,” she sighed.

“So,” she said at last, putting on what Sarah would call a brave game face as she indicated the books, “where do you want to start?”

After they finished up for the first part of the morning Ana called a break and poured tea. She eyed Sarah curiously.

“Jareth said he told you, about his past. How are you taking things?”

Sarah shrugged. “Well enough, I suppose. I was surprised, and yet, not really. You had told me enough that I could sense that there was a tragedy there. I had no idea…” Sarah trailed off uncomfortably.

“It was a different time,” Ana confirmed. "Life was harsher, more cruel. Children grew up quickly and were not sheltered from the tragedy that was life. Looking back, from what Brigid has told me, it’s a wonder that she and Jareth were able to stay sane. At least I was too young to remember the way our mother was beaten, used and discarded and all because of an archaic notion that she was somehow worthless because she had been victimized by a spoiled Fae lord who had neither compassion nor decency. To see our mother treated like garbage again and again and be helpless to stop it...” She shrugged, unable to go on.

She composed herself as Sarah sat awkwardly, not knowing how to comfort the other woman.

“I hope you didn’t judge Jareth too harshly for what he did.”

Sarah paused for a long minute. “I thought about it and decided that I didn’t have the right to judge him at all. I don’t know if you’ve read any literature from Above, but my favorite novel, that isn’t in the magical fantasy genre, is To Kill a Mockingbird. There’s a famous line in the book about not being able to appropriately judge someone until you put on his shoes and walk around for a while, you know, live his life. If I’d been Jareth, well…I don’t know. I might have done the same or wanted to if I knew how to fight. I thought I had it so awful, you know—my mom abandoned me, my dad started a new family and suddenly I wasn’t that important anymore. I felt like a built-in babysitter. I saw everything I didn’t have and none of what I did have. I had a safe, comfortable place to live; I knew where my next meal was coming from; I had medical care when I was sick, clothes to wear, educational opportunities, parents who really did care about me. Let’s face it, I felt so put upon, but I didn’t know what real hardship was. In a lot of ways, I’ve learned more about life in the past few weeks than I had in my whole life Above.”

“Hmmmm,” said Ana contemplatively. “So what’s your current plan?”

“Well, I’m just gonna learn as much as I can right now, try to be somewhat useful in all of this and wait. The High Fae Council still hasn’t made a decision, and Jareth thinks that’s a good thing—that the more time that passes, they’ll just treat our marriage like a fait accompli. In the meantime, I’m technically the Goblin Queen, although I haven’t had a coronation or signed one of those oaths like Jareth has. So, I guess I’m like, on probation.” She shrugged, uncertain.

“Don’t you still want to go home?”

“Less and less every day,” Sarah admitted. “The castle goblins grow on you after a while; they’re very sweet and incredibly loyal, even if they do get on my last nerve sometimes. I have friends here,” and she smiled at Ana, letting her know that she was included in that category. “And Jareth thinks I can be a good queen with some time, and I’m starting to actually believe him.”

Ana smiled. “So he’s not the monster you thought he was, is he?”

“No,” Sarah replied quickly. “No, he’s not. It’s …. complicated,” Sarah said finally.

“Knowing my brother, I’m sure it is,” she laughed. “Now for tomorrow, I want you to read….”

By the time 1:30 rolled around, Sarah had been put through the wringer. Ana was a skilled but demanding teacher. Sarah stepped through the mirror with more homework than she had ever had under Professor Quintus.

Jareth spent the afternoon showing her how to channel her magic directly into an energy bolt, as she had inadvertently done to poor Sprog the first time she had accessed her magic. Skipping the step of forging an energy ball saved valuable time. The magic was less versatile, but more immediate. Jareth was quite pleased with her progress and turned her over to Athienne’s tutelage.

The next days fell into a similar routine: breakfast, academic work, late lunch, magic lessons, healing lessons, homework, and a late dinner. Their after dinner dances now were usually quick, if at all, and very few games were played.

A general, pervasive exhaustion and lack of sleep were Sarah’s constant companions, and even so, she felt guilty knowing that Jareth worked even harder, going to bed long after she did and rising before dawn each morning.

Her twenty-eighth day in the Underground came at last and was marked by the castle staff baking a cake for her. They served it after dinner with a little ceremony. Athienne conducted a brief examination and pronounced Sarah to be fully transitioned. Sarah didn’t feel any different, but she hoped the frequent hunger pangs would stop now. She was also looking forward to the lighter and relatively mild menstrual cycles that Fae women enjoyed.

All in all, the whole transition had been fairly uneventful. That evening Jareth made love to her and then promised to take her Above the following day, which was a Sunday. Sarah settled in, content with her life.


	41. 41

Chapter 41

The visit with her family went….okay. Toby was overjoyed to see her, but both Karen and her father found the Fae eyebrows a little disconcerting as well as Jareth’s obvious use of magic.

Sarah’s more minor demonstrations of magic enthralled Toby, but he was the only one impressed. Robert looked a little fearful, and Karen looked positively ill. Karen spent most of the visit nervously looking around for goblins, having not forgotten the destruction the wee little beasts had wreaked on her home and person.

Sarah focused her attention on Toby, reading him three stories and playing teddy bears with him. She also chased him around the backyard twice as he squealed and fell down every dozen or so steps. A judicious application of magic let him land gently each time.

At one point, Jareth removed his gloves and tousled Toby’s hair, giving Sarah a small shake of his head afterward that went unnoticed by both Robert and Karen. So, he didn’t remember. _Thank God for small favors_ , Sarah thought.

When Toby tired, Sarah insisted on being the one to tuck him into bed for a nap and sing to him until he fell asleep. Knowing that Jareth was anxious to return to the Goblin Kingdom, Sarah said her goodbyes and asked about visiting again the following weekend.

Surprisingly, it was Karen who was the more receptive of the two. Having heard Sarah apologize again and seeing a demonstration of how she now treated Toby, and his obvious adoration of his sister, swayed her to offer a hesitant second chance. Sarah enthusiastically hugged both of her parents, and Jareth transported them across dimensions into the Underground.

As Jareth returned them to the throne room, Meep hurried forward.

“Sire, your special messengers have sent a report. You know who needs to speak with you.”

Sarah was about to turn away, when she surmised what ‘special messengers’ could mean. She looked at Jareth, hope dawning in her eyes. “Is that…?”

“Perhaps,” he said cutting her off with a sharp look. Leaning down he whispered, “Be careful. I have spies throughout many of the other kingdoms, and I don’t doubt that there may be a few in this castle. Wait for me to cast a privacy charm.”

She nodded, as he led her out of the throne room, calling to Meep, “Have Wego bring the carriage. It’s a fine day, and I promised Sarah a ride through the countryside.”

“As you command, Sire,” replied Meep.

Jareth led Sarah out to the courtyard, and in a moment, Wego had brought the carriage around. He dutifully held open the door as Sarah and Jareth seated themselves in the open conveyance. With a jaunty leap, he jumped onto the driver’s seat and urged the team forward. They began to move quickly, and as they cleared the castle, Jareth conjured a clear crystal bubble around the entire carriage.

“What news, Wego?” asked Jareth.

“My nephew sends his regards, Sire. He met with your two messengers yesterday morning. Both have settled into their cover stories well and have been running black market goods for several of the soldiers and even a few of the lower ranking officers in the troll army. The news is not good. Erlinwold has delayed his timeline. He has commissioned the construction of several magical catapults capable of breaching the labyrinth's walls. The trolls the messengers spoke with did not know who the sorcerers are who are providing the magic, only that the new catapults will be ready in approximately five weeks. Erlinwold has given orders that all battalions must be ready to break base camp as soon as the catapults are delivered.”

Jareth swore softly as he learned that a timeline had been finalized.

“The catapults will be slow moving and difficult to transport. They will be vulnerable as soon as they reach open ground. We may be able to destroy them before they reach the Goblin Kingdom. Anything else?”

“No, Sire, just rumors that Erlinwold has made some enemies among his own people. The rumors are unconfirmed, but it may be that Denneth, Erlinwar’s youngest son, has organized a group of rebels and they are working against Erlinwold. The messengers are trying to get more information.”

Jareth nodded.

“Jareth,” Sarah whispered, “are the messengers Hoggle and Sir Didymus?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

She pressed her lips together tightly with worry before asking hesitantly, “Wego, are the messengers well?”

“Oh yes, my Queen. According to my nephew, they are quite cunning little creatures and not only are they learning valuable information, they are making money hand over fist. The dwarf knows jewels like no smuggler ever, and the little one, well, ...everyone thinks he’s crazy. No one will cross him.”

Jareth grinned and even Sarah smiled, a lodestone falling off her chest. She leaned back in the seat next to Jareth and watched the beautiful countryside roll by.


	42. 42

Chapter 42

In hindsight, she should have known that the grueling pace they were both setting between work, lack of sleep, and the anxiety of the coming war would lead to an eventual explosion.

The day began innocuously enough a few days after her visit Above. They were having a rushed breakfast in the dining hall, as every square inch of every flat surface in Jareth’s study was covered with reports, maps, and other war preparations.

“Sarah, I wanted to tell you that I am quite pleased with your progress. You are truly becoming the Goblin Queen. I am certain that soon you will come to love me,” he said blandly, as if discussing the weather.

Sarah was never quite certain what it was. Perhaps it was the disinterested tone of voice; or perhaps it was because he just took her feelings for granted; or perhaps it was because he was right and her feelings had begun to morph into something resembling love. Whatever it was sent her temper spiraling out of control.

“No,” she screamed, standing so quickly her chair overturned. “I will never love you, someone who steals helpless children. Never,” she denied emphatically, turning to storm out of the dining hall but finding the hall doorway sealed shut with magic.

“Meep,” Jareth called, his voice low, deadly ice, “clear Sarah’s schedule for the day. She will be accompanying me on my rounds.”

Meep dashed through the connecting door to the kitchen, as Sarah turned from the locked hall doorway to confront Jareth, who was no longer simply Jareth but the Goblin King, cold mask of fury on his face and dressed in his midnight black armor.

“So, you dare assume you know something of what I do,” he hissed coldly. “Dress, Goblin Queen and do not defy me. You have ten minutes,” the anger in his voice was palpable as the doors unsealed, and he vanished in a shower of glitter.

Sarah climbed the stairs slowly, her thoughts spinning. What had just happened? Dress? She was dressed. She was wearing the amethyst colored dress with the dove gray slippers. What was wrong with it?

Wait, he had called her Goblin Queen, not Sarah. He must want her to put on that black monstrosity, the one that made her look like The Evil Bitch Queen From Hell. She took it out of the closet as she debated.

On the one hand, a part of her, the reckless defiant part, wanted very much to defy Jareth, high handed, arrogant, demanding, son of a…

On the other, the more cautious and logical part of her pointed out that her reaction had been way over the top, escalating this into a fight in the first place; perhaps it would be better to pick her battles.

In the end, simple curiosity won out; she wanted to see what he had planned.

It was strangely odd, but as angry as he was, she wasn’t afraid of him.

She changed quickly, tugged on the boots, but didn’t have time to do her hair. The simple braid down her left shoulder would have to do. She had just opened the box on her vanity, the one holding the diadem, when Jareth strode into the room.

He took the box from her and placed the diadem on her forehead as he had done before. Despite his anger, his hands were gentle, and Sarah was certain her trust wasn’t misplaced. He then stepped back and crossed his arms, staring at her hard.

“What now?” exasperation evident in her voice. “Where are your gloves, Sarah?”

“I have no idea. I just can’t get used to them.”

“You will need them today. Find them.”

Sarah sighed, turning to go look in the closet, when Jareth grabbed her arm.

“Hold out your hands and summon them. Control your emotions and use your magic.”

Sarah let out a deep breath, clearing her mind, picturing her gloves, reached out to her magic and “pulled” the gloves to herself.

“Very good,” Jareth said in a more even, less angry tone.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she ignored the compliment, determined to hold onto her anger.

He frowned at the snub. “Our first stop is a nearby farm. Then we are going Above,” he said as he gathered her to him, and they vanished from sight.

They reappeared on a farm, which wasn’t a huge surprise given that Jareth had just told her their destination. It seemed a neat and tidy little farm. The chickens were free range and well fed. The buildings were painted and in good repair. The crops in the distance looked healthy enough. Sarah, herself, was a city girl, and except for a few school field trips when she was a kid to various dairy farms and petting zoos, she had no actual farm experience at all.

Just then the side door of the farmhouse opened and two boys about six and nine years of age raced down toward Sarah and Jareth.

“David, Marcus,” Jareth greeted the boys. “Please entertain the Goblin Queen for a bit. I need to speak to your parents.” Jareth excused himself and headed for the door the boys had just exited.

“Come on,” said the younger one excitedly as he held out his hand. “We got puppies. Come see.”

“Are you Marcus or David?” Sarah asked as she gave him her hand.

“I’m Marcus. David’s three years older n’ me,” he said as he tugged Sarah toward the barn.

She followed dutifully along. When they got to the barn, the boys showed her a large hay filled crate with a very small fawn colored dog in it. The dog looked tired but content; Sarah could have sworn it was a Chihuahua but wasn’t certain if they had such things here. Two tiny fawn puppies with black markings that looked to be about the size of gerbils were tottering around, taking their first steps. Correction, three puppies. The third lay off to the corner, smaller than the others, black with a white chest, the runt.

Sarah felt immediately sorry for it. “Can I pet that one?” she asked, remembering that when they had picked out Merlin from the rescue that reaching in and touching a dog or a puppy had been strongly discouraged.

“Sure,” said Marcus. “Lola is a little touchy about who she lets touch her puppies, but she’ll let me and David handle ‘em,” he said proudly, as he reached in and gently picked up the little runt. He handed it to Sarah, who took it and held it tightly to her chest, terrified she’d drop the tiny thing it was shaking so hard.

Gradually both the puppy and Sarah relaxed, and it was soon snuggled into her neck fast asleep.

“Wow,” said David, “she likes you. I don’t suppose you want a puppy?” he asked hopefully. “Nobody else wants her; she’s real shy and kinda sickly, like I was when I first came here,” he said.

“She doesn’t wanna hear about that,” Marcus said dismissively.

“No, really I do,” Sarah said, beginning to suspect that this was precisely the reason Jareth had brought her here. “Were you wished aways?” she asked. Oh that sneaky Fae bastard…

“Uh hunh,” said Marcus. “Our real mother was kinda mean to us. Show her yer arms, David. Mine’s healed but David wanted to keep his. Not sure why.”

David hung his head a bit and slid his shirt sleeve up to reveal his forearm covered with what looked like a myriad of small puckered pink and white scars.

“Cigarette burns,” he muttered, “punishment for when I was bad, when we were bad,” he amended as he looked at his brother.

Sarah stifled a gasp as she struggled for something to say. She looked at David and then turned to look at Marcus too.

“I’ve known bad children, and I can tell you are not bad children,” she said at last.

“That’s what King Jareth said when he brought us here,” Marcus exclaimed happily. “We like it here. There’s plenty to eat, and we have clean clothes, and nobody hurts us. We got a new mama and papa, and they love us n’ take care of us. And now we have Lola. She’s the best dog ever. King Jareth brought her for us; she was wished away like us from someplace called a puppy mill. It was a big surprise when she turned out to have puppies in her.” He laughed. “Now, we just gotta find homes for the puppies. You sure you don’t want that one?”

Sarah pulled the little black puppy from her neck and regarded it silently, trying to find the words to explain that real dogs were Merlin’s size, that this wasn’t her idea of a dog, but as she looked into huge almond shaped brown eyes, she couldn’t do it.

As the words “Sure, I’ll take her,” tumbled out of her mouth, she wondered what she had just gotten herself into.

“She isn’t completely weaned yet, but we’ll let ya know when ya can have her,” David said as he held out his hands for the puppy.

Sarah reluctantly handed her over.

“That means she still drinks milk from her mama,” Marcus said authoritatively and nodded to Sarah.

She suppressed a grin and nodded back. Sarah heard Jareth’s voice then, thanking someone, and she and the boys exited the barn.

“Papa,” yelled Marcus. “We did it. We got a home for the little black one.”

The Fae man was joined on the porch in a moment by his wife, and they hugged Marcus. Sarah heard them congratulating him, telling them that they knew the boys could do it. They held their arms open for David too, but he remained standing by the fence, a look of uncertainty on his face. This confirmed what Sarah had suspected; the older boy was having a more difficult transition. Her heart went out to him then, and she was determined to figure out something to help.

Jareth arched an eyebrow. Sarah shrugged.

“The Queen wants the little black one,” Marcus crowed. “Isn’t it great?”

“ _Spectacular_ ,” Jareth commented dryly. “The Queen is going to be cleaning up a lot of messes,” he continued in a voice that made it very clear that this dog was solely her problem.

Sarah shrugged again. She’d housebroken Merlin. How much trouble could a little Chihuahua be? At least the messes would be tiny. Sarah waved goodbye, as she and Jareth prepared to go Above.

“Precious,” he whispered, “do try not to pick up any more strays.”

They re-appeared in hell.


	43. 43

Chapter 43

“Where are we?” Sarah whispered.

Jareth cocked his head slightly for a moment, as if in deep thought. “Detroit, Michigan, U.S.A.,” he replied with a brief shrug.

Sarah had seen pictures on television of slum neighborhoods, and she guessed that was where they were now. It was even worse on the inside.

It was fall, and the weather was turning quite cold. Whether the furnace worked or not, Sarah was uncertain. It was freezing in the small house and it stank to high heaven of rotten food and waste; given the stench, it was probably best that it was cold. Sarah suspected that was the only thing making it remotely possible not to gag.

Roaches crawled over every surface, unafraid. The table, the sink, and even the floor were piled with dirty dishes. A partially full bowl of what looked like it had once been oatmeal was growing a healthy colony of maggots. Sarah turned away sickened.

But everywhere she looked, trash and filthy laundry lay scattered, and animal waste lay crusted in the dirty carpeting, although there were no pets to be seen. Sarah wondered if they had run away. She fervently hoped they had.

The cupboards were open in several places. There was no food, and a greenish-yellow trickle ran out of the refrigerator, pooling on the old linoleum.

In a playpen in the corner were two small children, one perhaps two years old, the other a little younger than Toby. They were naked except for diapers, skinny, cold and dirty; they had a hollowed out look of desperation to them, too tired and despondent to even cry anymore.

In the corner amongst the filth, sat a thin woman wearing a dirty, long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. Her hair hadn’t been combed in days, and she rocked back and forth steadily, murmuring to herself.

Sarah recalled that she had eaten nothing that morning and was very glad of it right now.

“Stay here,” Jareth instructed as he stepped forward and began to speak, the seductive tones of the Goblin King coaxing the woman to give up the children for her dreams. She stared at him, glassy-eyed and desperate as he reminded her that she had wished away her children. He held out the crystal, and she didn’t hesitate, snatching it out of his gloved hand so quickly her movements were a blur.

Jareth watched her for a moment, but she had made her choice. She would not be running the labyrinth. He approached the children then. Conjuring a crystal, which turned into an overflowing diaper bag, Sarah watched shocked as the big, bad Goblin King changed dirty diapers and gave the children a quick wash with aloe wipes.

“Stay here,” he repeated. “I’ll be right back.”

With a child cradled in each arm, Jareth vanished.

Sarah turned her attention back to the woman who was gazing rapturously into the crystal, which suddenly shattered into glittering powder that became dozens of baggies that tumbled to the floor. Sarah watched curiously as the woman fumbled with a lighter as she produced a dirty looking pipe from the pocket of her cut off jeans.

Picking up one of the baggies, Sarah saw that it contained three small gray pebbles, two of them about the size of tic-tacs, one a little smaller. They were an ugly shade of light gray and kind of greasy looking. Sarah looked confused. The woman had traded her children for this?

Her attention was diverted in that moment as she heard a loud popping noise. _CRACK._ Sarah turned back to the woman and saw her with her hands cupped tightly around the lit pipe, holding it such that her flesh burned, but she neither noticed nor cared.

Her glassy expression was now replaced with a rapturous, dreamy, unfocused stare. She never noticed that her children were gone.

Sarah stared in horror as the scene played out in front of her eyes. The Goblin King returned at that moment, and Sarah turned her gaze to him.

“Crack cocaine,” he said at last as he took the small baggie from Sarah's hand. “She was in withdrawal when we arrived.”

He shrugged carelessly and tossed the baggie to the floor. Sarah was shocked and not a little horrified.

“So what, you’re her dealer now? Except instead of cash you take the children as payment?”

Jareth’s temper flared, as it had that morning. “The wisher determines the dream, not I. The crystal gives the wisher what he or she most wants. Had she wanted help that would have been provided. Instead, she chose this,” he said as he picked up and shook a handful of the numerous packets that lay scattered on the filthy floor, forcing Sarah’s attention from his face to the items in his hand.

He flung them carelessly back down. “Come, Sarah,” he gestured to her, anxious to be off.

Sarah didn’t move.

“We have to help her,” she insisted.

Jareth turned and looked at the pathetic creature with her matted hair spread out on the dirty carpet, a look of inhuman joy spread across her features. He felt a stab of pity and ruthlessly crushed it.

If Sarah would not come to him… He sighed and walked to her, grasping her shoulders and turning her so that she no longer saw the wretched woman on the floor. As Sarah faced him, he steadied himself for this lesson. She had to learn or she would be destroyed, consumed utterly by her role as the Goblin Queen.

“You cannot help her. There is nothing that you can do that would be of any help to her,” Jareth insisted.

Sarah looked at the sheer quantity of various drugs lying around. Most were little baggies of crack cocaine, but there were pills too, and even some needles and a few other assorted items Sarah could not name.

“She could OD and die,” Sarah cried.

Jareth shrugged. If she died then she died.

“Sarah,” he said as he pinned her with a hard look.

She must understand. Her very survival depended upon this.

“You mustn’t interfere. I know. Trust me, I know. I’ve tried.” He sighed then. “You cannot help those who do not want help.”

“You don’t know that she doesn’t want help,” Sarah insisted as tears gathered in her eyes.

“Yes, I do,” he said flatly, voice hard. “Had she wanted help, the crystal would have given it to her. Instead, she chose this,” he repeated harshly, as he kicked at a small pile of drug paraphernalia with the toe of his boot.

As reluctant comprehension of the truth finally dawned in her eyes, he enfolded Sarah in his arms, and they vanished.

Sarah watched in numb shock as this scene played itself out twice more, once in Los Angeles and once in Indianapolis. One woman hesitated briefly, and Sarah thought she might choose the labyrinth, but once she looked into the crystal, she, too, chose her dreams, chose the drugs over her children.


	44. 44

Chapter 44

Sarah was prepared for it this time, but instead of a home, they landed in what seemed to be a warehouse, a warehouse of children.

“Where are we?” Sarah asked as she gazed at row upon row of children in cribs, children lying neglected, forgotten, too many for the too few staff that appeared to be going through the motions of providing care for them.

“Welcome to Glasnost, Sarah,” Jareth replied. “This is an orphanage, Ukraine, USSR.”

“These people aren’t screaming,” she said, “and I doubt they’re drug addicts used to hallucinations.” She looked at Jareth.

“They cannot see us. We will be visible only when I make contact with the wisher and take the child.”

“Did we come for them all?” she whispered in awe. “There must be fifty kids here.”

“No, just that one,” he said as he indicated a dark haired child with luminous green eyes, bright with fever. She looked like she was about two, but Sarah had the feeling that she was much older. She said as much.

“She is,” Jareth said as he looked at her. “She’s closer to five actually. It’s a combination of malnutrition and lack of exercise. Many of these children will be passed off as much younger and healthier than they really are when they are adopted, in other words sold, to foreign parents who are desperate for a child.”

“That’s horrible.” Sarah was outraged.

“It’s the way of the world, Sarah. Children are increasingly becoming a commodity to be bought and sold on the black market. This one was just wished away by her caregiver. See that young woman over there,” he pointed to a girl in her late teens or early twenties with blonde hair who was changing a diaper a few rows over.

“She is young enough, ...not yet too jaded to care anymore. She wished this one away because she knows this child will never be adopted and will likely die here soon. Between the poor nutrition, the lack of care, and the close living conditions, illness and disease are rampant. Those not adopted relatively quickly will not be adopted at all.”

Sarah looked closer at the child. She looked terribly ill. A greenish discharge leaked from the corners of her eyes and dribbled down her nose. A harsh rattling sound escaped her mouth with each breath. Her skin was blotchy, but more than that, her features weren’t right somehow. Her face was broader and flatter than it should have been, eyes just a bit too far apart, nose slightly flattened. Sarah’s magic whispered of a deep wrongness.

“What’s wrong with her?”

Jareth passed an ungloved hand across her forehead gently. “Severe upper respiratory infection that has also spread to her sinuses. It will be pneumonia very soon.”

“No, I mean…,” Sarah hesitated, unsure how to explain the wrongness she had perceived.

“Ahhh,” said Jareth, “so you see it, or do you feel it with your magic?”

“Both,” said Sarah, as she reached out again with her magic. She was beginning to rely more and more on her magic. It was like having an extra sense in addition to the usual five.

“She has fetal alcohol syndrome. Her mother drank heavily during gestation, which seriously affected the child’s brain development. This is why no one wants her. Many of the other children are also affected, but it is not so obvious, and so hope remains to sell them to an adoptive couple.”

Sarah turned away, sickened at the mercenary thought of selling a child like groceries.

“Ahhh good,” Jareth murmured. “Our wisher is taking a lunch break. We will be able to speak to her alone.”

The girl grabbed lunch from a refrigerator old enough to belong in a museum and after she put on a somewhat threadbare coat, she headed outside. She sat down on a concrete parking block and took several long, ragged breaths to clear the stench of human waste and sickness from her lungs, her breath misting in the cold air. She then began to eat a small, somewhat soggy looking sandwich.

It was then that Jareth cast a privacy crystal and appeared to her in a shower of black and silver glitter with Sarah at his side.

“Goblin King,” she gasped, “and Queen,” she amended, and Sarah was amazed.

The young woman was, presumably, speaking Russian, but Sarah understood her as clearly as if she had spoken Midwestern English.

“We’ve come for the child,” he said, gesturing and including Sarah.

“Will she be loved and cared for?” the young woman asked.

Sarah saw the fear in her eyes then, but overlaying all of that was the concern. She needed assurances.

Sarah stepped forward then, sat next to the woman and put her arm around her. She explained how the child would be healed and go to a family eager to adopt where she would be cherished.

The young woman smiled and dabbed her eyes.

“I’ll get her,” she said eagerly, as she jumped up and rushed back into the building.

Jareth crossed his arms and eyed Sarah speculatively.

“You seem to be developing a knack for this, Goblin Queen. Not quite what you thought it was, is it?” he asked archly.

Sarah looked away, swallowing hard. But Jareth continued.

“Well loved children are seldom wished away. Occasionally a spoiled sibling will thoughtlessly wish away a baby brother or sister, but it’s a rare occurrence,” he said as he drove the point home hard.

Sarah supposed she had that coming and said nothing.

“Just so you know, and we are very clear on this point, I take only wished away children where there is true, sincere intent behind the wish. I have never, **ever** ,” he stated emphatically, “stolen a child. I cannot. The binding magical oath I took as Goblin King prevents it.”

Sarah stared hard at the buckles on her left boot, deeply ashamed of her previous accusation made in ignorance. That coupled with the realization that wishing away Toby was not about the right words but that she had truly despised him and wanted him gone when she uttered those words, that horrible wish, drove a hard spike of guilt and shame directly into her heart. She needed to apologize, but now was not the time.

Just then the young blonde woman reappeared holding the child in her arms.

Jareth took her gently. “I will return in a moment. Stay in the crystal,” he instructed Sarah as he vanished.

“My name’s Irena,” the blonde said.

“Sarah.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Irena.

“So,” said Sarah, “why do you do this?”

“It pays the bills,” Irena said with a small shrug. “And in this economy, I’m very lucky to have a job. I hope someday to go to America. We see such wonders on television, a college education, opportunities…” Her voice grew dreamy and wistful.

Sarah had already been planning for college when Jareth had claimed her. Again, she was struck by how very fortunate she had been in life, in her family.

Jareth returned then, crystal in hand, as he offered Irena her dreams.

“Take it,” Sarah urged.

“My dreams…,” Irena hesitated.

She reached for the crystal, her hand hovering over Jareth’s for a moment, before she took his gloved fingers and pressed his hand closed around the crystal.

“The others,” she whispered pleadingly, “can you take them instead?”

“You can only wish away those children in your control. You must be their rightful caretaker.”

She looked defeated for a moment, but then inspiration struck. “But I am,” she exclaimed. “We are all in charge of all of the children. We divvy up the work amongst ourselves, but I am the rightful caretaker of all of the children until 5:00 p.m., when I go off shift. Is that good enough?” she asked, hope in her eyes.

Sarah looked at Jareth, as she remembered Ana’s words about the Goblin King having some leeway in the interpretation of his duties.

He nodded finally and said “Yes, but you must make the wish.”

She did so quickly, a breathless hope in her voice.

It was a simple matter to cast a sleep spell on the occupants of the orphanage. With Irena’s help and reinforcements of the goblin variety, the orphanage was cleared out in less than an hour.

Jareth’s last stop was the office, where a magical paper trail now existed showing that the orphans had all been adopted out to loving families.

This time when Jareth held out her dreams Irena took the crystal.

She gazed into the crystal and gasped. “A scholarship,” she announced in a breathy whisper. “I’m going to America.”

“Go home and pack your things quickly. I believe events are already in motion,” Jareth instructed.

She nodded. “Thank you,” she cried, as she ran toward the bus stop down the street.

“We have two more stops to make,” Jareth said evenly. “You will now see the fates of some of the children who are not fortunate enough to be wished away.”


	45. 45

Chapter 45

This time they reappeared on a dusty road near a small, primitive looking village. Sarah surmised that they were somewhere in Africa, but she wasn’t certain exactly where.

“Where are we this time?” she asked.

“Does it really matter?” Jareth countered.

She supposed not. As she watched, people surged, turning into a frightened, angry mob in front of her eyes. At the center of the fracas seemed to be a small child, perhaps four or five years old. Sarah watched as what in any other situation she would assume to be rational, reasonable adults went completely insane.

Screaming “Witch Child,” they threw rocks and sticks, driving the child from the village; he fell, screaming, and the mob was upon him.

Sarah tried to run forward but could not move, an unyielding magical barrier she could not penetrate appeared before her.

“Let me through!” she screamed at Jareth, but it was too late.

Satisfied with the dispensation of justice, the mob began to disperse, leaving the child’s broken body at the side of the road. No one claimed him. No one wept for him. Sarah turned away, beyond sickened.

“Why?” Sarah whispered. “Why didn’t you take him?”

“He was not a wished away or a runner in the labyrinth. I have no power over him nor do you, which is why you could not reach him,” Jareth said sadly.

She stared at the ground brokenly, unable to look at either Jareth or the child.

“Take me home,” she whispered.

“Soon,” he replied. “Just one more stop.”

Cold. With the Fae transition, Sarah noticed that she didn’t feel temperature extremes as much as she had when she was human. But this place was cold and the air was thinner. A steady wind blew hard and biting, leaving an arid chill in the bones. Wherever they were, snow was still on the ground, not a lot, but it wasn’t melting anytime soon either.

As she stood on the top of a steep hill, Sarah had an excellent view of the valley. It was dotted with small farms and little homesteads that weren’t much more than shacks. The fields lay untended in the cold as tiny curls of smoke rose from the chimneys and gradually lost cohesion to be blown away in the unrelenting wind. Sarah thought about asking Jareth where they were, but decided it didn’t really matter after all.

As she watched, a couple struggled up the side of the hill carrying a burden. As they came closer, Sarah saw that the bundle was clutched to the woman’s breast as if it were a child. When they reached the summit, the woman hesitated. Then the man spoke.

“It is a girl,” he said forcefully. “She will be no help to us in our old age. We must think of the future,” he insisted.

Still she hesitated, and he took the bundle from her and laid it on the ground, his gentleness belying his harsh words.

Sarah could see now; it was a baby girl, shivering in the bundle of rags, not more than a few days old at most.

The woman tried to speak, but the man shook his head. “There is no more to say,” he said tiredly, as he gestured to the woman to follow him. She hesitated for a long minute but at last turned her back and began to follow her husband down the hill leaving the cold, whimpering child behind.

“We’re in rural China, aren’t we? The one child policy…,” she said blankly, unable to take her eyes from the small bundle of rags.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“Will they come back for her?” Sarah whispered as she watched them trudge slowly back to their homestead.

He turned slightly, peering into the future.

“No,” he said finally.

“Ana says the Goblin King’s duties are open to interpretation. Save her, Jareth, please,” Sarah begged.

“I cannot. She has not been wished away in any sense of the word. My oath binds _me_.” Here he stressed the word ‘me’ carefully.

Sarah stared at him, confused.

“ _I_ have no authority to act,” he said as he stared at her intently.

“Are you saying I do?” Sarah asked hesitantly.

“Abandoned children are within the purview of the Goblin Queen. But be warned, Sarah. Once you step free of this crystal and claim that child, you will be claiming fully the role of the Goblin Queen. There is no going back from this. Do you understand?”

Sarah nodded. In retrospect, she was ashamed to admit that she didn’t immediately rush forward as the full import of Jareth’s words sank into her mind. Sarah hesitated a moment more and stepped forward, falling to her knees as she gathered the whimpering child to her.

“Shhhhh….,” she whispered, “you’ll be warm and safe in just a minute.” She tucked the child tightly to her chest, turned and walked back to Jareth who transported them directly to the castle nursery.

Sarah expected the place to be complete bedlam. Instead, fifty odd children slept soundly in cribs or on soft mattresses on the floor, clean and snug in their blankets.

Athienne smiled when she saw them, moving forward to take the bundle from Sarah. She examined the child quickly, pronounced her healthy and handed her to Meep who happily popped a bottle into her mouth.

“What’s wrong with them?” Sarah asked softly, afraid of waking the sleeping children.

“They are all in a deep, healing sleep,” Athienne replied. “Most of them were in desperate need of a good meal and some real rest,” she said on a deep sigh. “Their injuries have been healed, and they have been fed.”

“What will happen to the children now?” she asked.

Jareth inhaled deeply. “They will be matched up with Fae families hoping to adopt, and when they awaken, they will be in their new homes. If they are under two, they will retain no memories of their prior lives. I would remove the memories of the older ones as well,” he said, and Sarah saw that he was thinking of David and his uncertain transition into his Fae family. “But, it would remove their language skills and other basic knowledge of the world. To rob them of so much seems wrong,” he said heavily.

She nodded, her face a blank, white mask. “I’m going to bed,” she said finally, not waiting for acknowledgement as she walked quickly to the bedroom.


	46. 46

Chapter 46

 

“Too much, Jareth,” said Athienne as she pinned the Goblin King with a hard stare. “She is in agony. Too much too soon.”

“Sarah is strong,” Jareth insisted.

“Which of us is the healer, Jareth? I’m telling you unequivocally that she is very near hysteria,” Athienne said forcefully.

Jareth vacillated for a moment and finally followed Sarah up the stairs and into the bedroom. He found her in bed, staring at the wall as tears ran silently down her face.

“Sarah,” he called.

When no response was forthcoming, he again called her name and shook her slightly. She ignored him, trapped in the hell of her own thoughts as visions of a child being stoned to death replayed in her mind over and over. He stepped into the hallway.

“Athienne,” he cried with urgency.

When she arrived, he gestured helplessly to Sarah. She went to the young woman’s side, passing her hand over Sarah’s forehead gently, as she sent her into a deep, dreamless sleep. She fixed Jareth with a hard stare as she rose from Sarah’s side.

“Hot headed young fool,” she hissed. “You could have broken her mind. Do you realize that?” she berated him. Oh yes,” she smiled grimly. “Meep told me what happened this morning.” She shook her head angrily. “You know better than this. She is young and newly Fae in a situation largely beyond her control. To let her anger goad you into something this stupid…” she trailed off. “I called you young, but that is only by comparison. You are old enough…you’ve seen enough to know better than to do this to someone her age.”

Jareth flinched under her harsh criticism. Under other circumstances, he would have asserted his authority as Goblin King, but he deserved this and more.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked finally.

Athienne reached into her healer’s bag and withdrew a small vial of liquid that looked remarkably like chocolate milk.

“She’ll wake in the wee small hours of the morning. Feed her and give her this. I’ll be back in the morning with a Potion of Lethe. I’ll take this day from her, the full 26 hours, and make certain that she doesn’t remember it. But if you do this again, so help me Danu, I’ll paddle you like one of my own great grandchildren.”

Under other circumstances her threat would have made him laugh, but looking at Sarah, he couldn’t find a thing funny about it. He nodded and took the potion; conjuring his favorite reading chair and a book, he settled in to keep watch over her, waiting patiently for her to awaken.

Sarah awoke slowly, her mouth and throat dry and cottony. How odd, she thought, the light was on. Jareth sat reading in his chair next to the bed. Why wasn’t he asleep?

“Sarah,” he said softly as he shut his book and sat on the edge of the bed.

The look he gave her of quiet anguish was the same one he had given her when… Oh God, no, her mind cried out as she remembered, …the child, his broken little body bloody and torn. She pulled away then, the sobs coming as a soft keening wail tore out of her throat. No, No, No…how could they?

“Sarah,” he cried out this time, as he tried to hold her, soothe her, comfort her. He decided this was an emergency, as he pushed calming magic directly into her mind. Rather than calm her, he felt a sharp, painful magical recoil hit his gut like a cattle prod as her emotions and her magic spiked and fought back like a rabid animal.

Athienne had been right; she was past hysteria. Very well then, if her mind refused to calm, he would bind her body before she could hurt herself or someone else.

As Sarah felt the magical chains bind her tightly, she fought harder, screaming in inarticulate anguish, but there was no give this time, nothing but a tight cocoon of warmth. She dimly realized what the warmth was, and that was what penetrated her anguish at last. Jareth’s emotions. Since magic was tied to a Fae’s emotions, it made a certain rational sense. Jareth was expending a fair amount of magical energy to hold her down without hurting her. She reached out with her magic, sensing the energy that held her—fear, concern, guilt (oh yes, a substantial amount of guilt), but overriding all of it was the sense that she was cherished, maybe even loved by the Goblin King.

She closed her eyes and let that seep into her aching psyche until she finally reached a point of equilibrium.

“Jareth,” she whispered, “you can release me now. I’m okay,” Sarah said calmly.

The magical bindings didn’t budge. She saw hesitation war with hope in his eyes.

“I’m Fae now. You know I can’t lie to you. I really am okay,” she whispered softly. The bindings melted as if they had never existed, and she wasted no time in replacing the warm sense of his magic with his warm body as she wrapped her arms around him and sought the comfort of his embrace.

He held her tightly; the silence only broken as he occasionally whispered “Sarah, oh Sarah.”

Finally, she pushed away slightly to look at him. She looked at the vial clutched in his hand.

“What’s that?” she asked, hesitating slightly.

“I’m not completely sure,” he replied. “Athienne wants you to eat and take this; it’s supposed to let you sleep without dreams. She will be back in the morning to heal you.”

“What do you mean, heal me? I’m not sick,” Sarah said softly.

“She is going to take your memories of yesterday. She fears that your mind is broken, Sarah, and I am responsible for it. I’m so very sorry,” he said with no small measure of guilt in his voice.

“No,” Sarah said firmly.

“Yes, Sarah, I am responsible for this. I let your anger goad my own temper and defeat my better judgment. I showed you things you weren’t ready to see.”

“Is anyone ever really ready to see those things, Jareth?” Sarah countered, a note of resignation in her voice. “If they are, then there is already something wrong with them, and I mean deep down wrong like psycho wrong.” She sighed. “Besides, I meant no, my memories will not be taken.”

“Sarah,” he cajoled softly.

“No,” she repeated firmly. “You promised me Jareth. It’s not an emergency. I had to struggle a little, but I will get there. I can deal with this,” she said, determination tinging her words.

“Will you at least eat?” he asked. “I have a tray here for you.”

“Okay, and I’ll even drink that stuff,” she said as she indicated the vial, “but you have to promise me that no one is going to take my memories.”

“I…I can’t Sarah. What if you’re like…that…again tomorrow?” he said with anguish.

Fair enough, Sarah thought to herself. “So, what you’re saying is that if I want to keep my mind intact, then I have to hold it together, right?”

Jareth hesitated. “Yes, I suppose that is what I’m saying. You didn’t see yourself, Sarah. You were like a wild animal, no rational thought at all.”

She nodded. “How do you deal with it? Surely yesterday isn’t the worst you’ve seen in your time as Goblin King.”

“No, no it isn’t,” he agreed. “I save the ones I can save. I try not to dwell on the ones I cannot save. I had a very rough adjustment when I first took on this role. It is difficult to turn away from people who need help, but needing help and being ready to accept help are two entirely different things. Early on, I was nearly insane with trying to be the Goblin King. To live this life, to do this job, is to accept pain and loss, to see despair and the cruelty that humans are capable of. But there is also joy. I try to enjoy my ridiculously long life, placing the wished aways in loving homes, singing and dancing with the goblins, games of skill and chance, helping my subjects lead full and happy lives, making love to my wife,” he said with a small smile.

Sarah smiled back, not sure if she was blushing or not. “So, how do you suggest I start coming to terms with this part of being the Goblin Queen?”

“Well,” he said, a false innocence creeping into his voice as he eyed her speculatively and smiled, “you do have an abandoned child that needs placing. Any ideas as to what you’re going to do with her? Or do we now have another stray in addition to that Chihuahua?” His smile was an outright grin now.

“Their child will not be a wished away,” Sarah whispered. “That’s what you said…and you said I had something to do with it, when you saw a shadow of the future. This is Tannith and Jerra’s baby, isn’t it?” Sarah asked in awe as events seemed to be unfolding as the magic had foretold.

“Perhaps. Remember, abandoned children are the bailiwick of the Goblin Queen. She is yours to place. If your magic tells you this babe belongs to Tannith and Jerra, then it is so. If it tells you differently, then you will place her elsewhere. Listen to your magic, Sarah. What is it telling you? Where does this child belong?”

Sarah closed her eyes and felt for her magic, the connection so strong now that the Fae transition was complete. She thought of taking this little baby girl to Tannith and Jerra, handing her to them, seeing her grow up in the warm and radiant love that permeated their home. The rightness of it nearly overwhelmed her.

“Yes,” she said, awe coloring her voice. “This baby belongs to Tannith and Jerra.”

“We can take her tomorrow if you like,” Jareth said. “Once you convince Athienne you are sane.”

Sarah nodded and reached for the tray of food. She laughed as Jareth tried to steal her grapes. Sarah added master thief to the litany of skills her arrogant Fae husband possessed as all of her grapes disappeared. She chuckled as he conjured a bowl of mixed berries and proceeded to feed them to her by hand, until that game turned sensual, and she was too busy moaning to laugh anymore. Tired and sated, she fell asleep in her husband’s embrace, not needing the vial of chocolate milk.


	47. 47

Chapter 47

“I’m fine,” Sarah insisted the next morning.

Athienne was not giving up anytime soon. “Majesty, it would be better if you would just let me remove these memories. Tis only a day,” she cajoled softly.

“No,” Sarah replied stubbornly, crossing her arms and quite literally digging her heels in, at least as much as she could when all of the floors in the castle were stone.

“My Queen, it would be better to learn some things slowly over time, to give yourself a chance to better adjust…” Athienne trailed off, uncertain how or why she was losing this battle.

“No,” Sarah repeated. “I’ve had nothing but hard adjustments since I got to the Underground. I learned my mother sold me for her career, not just once but three times. You want to take those memories too? How about the one where I found out that one of the men she sold me to is a brutal rapist? You want to erase the knowledge that my dad and stepmother don’t want me? That my mother never loved me at all? How about you just take the last month completely?” Sarah said facetiously.

Athienne sighed tiredly in the face of Sarah’s irrefutable logic. “If you change your mind….”

“I won’t,” Sarah replied. “But thanks.”

Sarah sighed. She knew she was putting on a brave front, that the young boy’s death would haunt her for years to come. But the sad reality was that if it weren’t him, it would be some other child at a later time who caused her heart to clench and her eyes to tear up in memory of senseless pain and death.

She wasn’t stupid. She watched the news sometimes. It was impossible not to know these sorts of things went on, but seeing it up close and personal…. Knowing and **_knowing_** were two entirely different things. “Fake it til you make it,” Sarah whispered to herself. Lather, rinse and repeat as necessary.

“If you’ll excuse us, please,” she said to Athienne, “we have a child to place.”

Athienne had been alive a very long time. She knew when she was beaten.

Jareth smirked.

“I’m not too old to punish you, remember that,” she said as she shook her finger at Jareth. “Don’t you dare do this again. You got lucky this time. Remember that.”

He nodded as he silently acknowledged how very right she was.

After she left, Jareth managed to talk Sarah into breakfast, pointing out that they would likely be a while as new parents tended to want to ask a lot of questions.

As Meep served breakfast, Sarah thanked him and asked for a favor. The little goblin was surprised but eager to please his Queen.

“Meep,” Sarah explained, “Tannith and Jerra have kinda given up hope on getting a child anytime soon. I’ve seen their nursery, and it’s pretty bare. Do you think you could round up a few baby things, just enough to get them through a few days?”

“Meep is on it,” he promised, mimicking Sarah’s Above speech.

___________________________

“Meep,” Jareth questioned his most competent ‘special’ goblin, “are there any baby supplies left in the castle for the other children?” he asked as he eyed the pile of diapers, clothing, bottles, toys, blankets, and other assorted paraphernalia Meep had acquired.

“Oh yes, Majesty. Got this from storage,” he said proudly.

Jareth shrugged. “Have Wego bring the carriage around. I’m tired after sitting up with Sarah most of the night, and I am not expending the magical energy to transport all of this over that much distance.”

As he said that, he conjured a crystal and tossed it out the window. It floated away on the breeze.

“What was that?” Sarah asked.

“I sent a missive to Tannith and Jerra advising them to expect a visit from their King and Queen in about an hour.”

Once the carriage was loaded, there was just enough room left for Sarah and Jareth. Sarah set the baby on her lap, and they were off. She cooed to the child, who slept most of the way, the rocking of the carriage and Sarah’s heartbeat lulling her into a deep sleep.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah inquired softly, not wanting to wake the baby.

“Certainly,” Jareth replied. “You may always ask. I may not always be able to answer, but you may ask.”

“You had to see that I was…stressed…yesterday. Why did you take me on those last two visits? Surely you had to know it wasn’t gonna turn out great.”

Jareth sighed. “The language,” he said finally.

Sarah looked confused.

“You understood Irena. Only a true Goblin Monarch understands and speaks all human languages. Call it a job requirement. You are truly the Goblin Queen, Sarah. The Labyrinth has doubts. I had harbored a few myself. I claimed you at such a young age…, but I digress. In my excitement at discovering this, I wanted to see if your magic had granted you all of the powers and limitations of the Goblin Queen. Would it prevent you from interfering with a child who had not been abandoned? Would it allow you to claim an abandoned? In my haste and eagerness to test your abilities, I lost sight of the potential trauma. Sometimes the Goblin Queen is just a title given to the mate of the Goblin King. Sometimes she is truly the Goblin Queen, the champion of abandoned children. I was overly eager to prove that you were the latter.”

Sarah nodded, understanding at last.

“I am sorry. Athienne is right. I could have caused you permanent psychological trauma.”

“I’m sorry, too. I spoke without any insight or understanding yesterday. I realize now that you don’t steal children away. I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

He nodded and smiled sadly. He wanted to ask if this meant that she could love him, but the peace between them was tenuous at best, and he wasn’t certain if he truly wanted her answer to that question.

As the carriage passed Elspeth’s House and pulled up to the small cottage, Sarah saw that they had drawn some interest. Before they could exit the carriage, Tannith and Jerra had rushed forward and had curtsied and bowed respectively.

Sarah handed the baby to Jareth and exited the carriage to quickly hug her friend.

Wego sighed in consternation. She really needed to learn to wait for him. He held the carriage door for the Goblin King and waited.

“I have something for you,” Sarah said as she smiled.

Jareth handed the babe to Sarah and exited the carriage himself, nodding his thanks to Wego. He watched with a soft smile as Sarah handed the babe over to her new parents.

“We had hoped,” Tannith whispered, “when the message crystal came…but we were so afraid to get our hopes up…,” she trailed off as she held her new daughter.

“Is this all for us?” Jerra asked in shock as he looked at all of the baby gear in the carriage.

“All of it,” confirmed Jareth. “So, where do you want it?”

“Back…back bedroom…errr nursery,” Jerra stammered.

Jareth stripped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Well, let’s get to it then. The women are going to want to set it all up and fuss over it,” he sighed with a grin.

Truth be told, he could have magicked all of it easily into the nursery, but sometimes manual labor was quite satisfying, and he wanted to give Sarah time to bask in her first placement. He would enjoy the diversion. When it was all unloaded and set up to Sarah’s and Tannith’s satisfaction and the babe had been fed and laid down for a nap, Jareth announced it was time to go.

“Thank you so much,” Tannith said. “I don’t know how we can ever thank you, but if there’s anything, anything at all we can do—just name it.”

Sarah hesitated. “If you don’t have a name picked out…,” she began.

“We don’t,” Jerra assured her. “We’d be honored if you wanted to name her.”

Tannith nodded and looked hopefully at Sarah.

“Dove,” Sarah said at last. “I’d like to name her Dove, but only if you like it.”

“I love it,” Tannith said. “I love feeding the mourning doves and listening to the soft whistle of their wings.

Jerra smiled. “It’s a beautiful name.”

“Wego, take the carriage back to the castle. The Queen and I will be transporting,” Jareth instructed.

“Very good, Sire.”

Jareth took them directly to his study. “Why Dove?” he asked.

He couldn’t remember Sarah ever mentioning the bird or any particular significance of the name.

“For your mother,” Sarah smiled shyly. “You told me how she was considered a fallen dove. But doves can fly, and with the love and joy in that home, this is one dove who’s gonna soar.”

Jareth simply nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat.


	48. 48

Chapter 48

 

The days passed and turned into weeks. The children were all placed, and both she and Jareth resumed their schedules, although at a less grueling pace. After the last explosive detonation of their tempers, they both silently resolved to get more sleep and spend just a bit more time engaged in fun pursuits, recognizing the need to relieve the stress of the upcoming war, which loomed heavily on the horizon.

Brigid and Tieran became regular visitors to the castle, and many games of euchre were played in the castle’s conservatory. The couple appeared blissfully in love, and Jareth wasn’t surprised when Tieran asked to speak to him privately.

Jareth toyed with the idea of having a bit of sport with the love besotted fool and pretending to oppose the match, but thoughts of Brigid blistering his ears for hours on end with Sarah joining in for good measure quickly dispelled that notion. Amusing as it was, it simply wasn’t worth the headache. So, he smiled and gave his blessing, perfunctory though it was. Brigid was of age, many times over, and could do as she pleased; he recognized this for the courtesy it was and admired Tieran’s traditional sense of family duty.

He wondered idly what would have happened had he approached Robert Williams prior to claiming Sarah. Several scenarios played out in his mind, all with the same result—Robert Williams sinking slowly in the Bog of Eternal Stench. He smiled wickedly at the thought.

Sarah was not a little put out when Tieran asked to speak to Jareth alone. Had he heard something from the High Fae Council? In the Above, the lawyers were the first ones notified of any court decision. Sarah looked worried as the door closed behind them, and the two Fae men headed to Jareth’s study.

Brigid saw her look of consternation and struggled not to laugh. “Don’t worry, Sarah, it’s not what you think. So far as I know, the High Fae Council hasn’t made a decision yet. Tieran is just asking for Jareth’s blessing. We’ve tentatively set a date in June for our handfasting,” she said with a huge smile on her face.

Sarah was overjoyed and hugged her sister-in-law fiercely. “Oh, that’s fabulous. How many bridesmaids? Have you ordered the flowers? What about the reception?” Sarah’s energy and questions seemed boundless.

Brigid laughed. “Handfastings and such are not the huge affairs here that they are in the Above. They’re very private, just close family and friends. The ceremony is pretty simple, and the whole thing is over with pretty quickly. There’s usually a small feast afterward, nothing too elaborate. In fact, Tieran and I are planning something a little smaller and simpler than most. You and Jareth are, of course, invited,” she said with a smile. “Unless, of course, that mischievous brother of mine denies his blessing, then only you are invited.”

“I heard that,” Jareth said from the doorway as he and Tieran re-entered the room.

She ignored him and looked at Tieran. “Did he give his blessing?” she asked.

“Yes,” he smiled, “and you now owe me a munga berry pie.”

“Hmmmm,” she murmured. “Did he make you grovel?”

Jareth laughed and leaned over to hug his sister. “Almost,” he said, “but give me some credit. I do possess enough good sense not to rile that temper of yours.”

After they had gone, it was impossible to wipe the self-satisfied, insouciant smile from Sarah’s face. He smiled. _Let her preen_ , he thought to himself. She was, after all, responsible for his sister’s happiness.


	49. 49

Chapter 49

 

A few days later, Sarah felt odd, a sudden sense of abnormal urgency stabbing through her. It became so strong, it was physically painful. She had been practicing her magic, but went in search of Jareth, certain that something was very wrong. She found him in his study reviewing battalion readiness reports. She tried to explain, gesturing helplessly to her chest where she now felt a tight constriction around her heart.

“Take hold of me,” he commanded sharply finally realizing what was happening, and Sarah found herself transported Above to what looked like New York City.

She looked at Jareth, uncertain.

“You are summoned, Goblin Queen. Use your magic; let it draw you to the abandoned child. And hurry. There is much iron here, and you are newly Fae. You will weaken quickly.”

Sarah focused on her magic, breathing deeply and felt her magic pull her into an alley. She walked along, looking for a child but saw nothing but a trash dumpster and a few piled up cardboard boxes stacked next to it. She let her magic pull her forward unerringly to the dumpster. She raised the lid and gasped.

Wrapped in bloody toilet paper, lying amongst the trash and refuse was a baby not more than a few hours old. Sarah reached out a hand, touching the cold, still body. It breathed still. She grabbed it frantically.

“Jareth,” she cried urgently as she poured her rudimentary healing magic into the babe.

He drew Sarah to him and transported them directly to the castle nursery.

“Meep,” Sarah called, “fetch Athienne ASAP.”

Meep looked confused.

“As fast as you can,” Sarah clarified.

Meep vanished.

For the hundredth time Sarah wished she could transport. As a Fae, she had to learn and control magic. Goblins were creatures of magic. Although their magic was less potent, it came to them as naturally as breathing.

In the interim, Jareth peeled his tight leather gloves from his hands and added his magic to Sarah’s. When Athienne arrived a few moments later, the baby was warm, alert and squalling his displeasure at being hungry and neglected.

She pronounced the child healthy and tidied up the raggedly cut umbilical cord. Jareth conjured a bottle, and the little one was turned over to the nursery staff. Sarah was grateful to them. She knew if she had to care for the children directly that she would soon become terribly attached and letting go would be even harder than it was already.

Later that afternoon, Sarah sat and stared at the prodigious homework Ana had assigned, her thoughts far away. She was beginning to understand Jareth’s jaded cynicism when it came to humanity. How could someone throw a baby away like trash?

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Jareth said as he crossed the room and sat next to her, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. “That was very nearly a tragedy, and it was my fault. I did not think…” he sighed. “I do not know what the Goblin Queen feels when there is an abandoned child who needs her. I should have had you speak with the Dowager Summer Queen; she has been fulfilling the role of the Goblin Queen since her brother was Goblin King. I should have prepared you better to answer the summons.” He sighed.

She hadn’t thought to ask, so he couldn’t be blamed for all of it. She squeezed his hand and let the silence stretch.

A few days later, Sarah received word that her puppy was ready to go home. She eagerly went to the goblin market and selected a dog bed, food bowls, a collar and leash and a little pink puppy sweater. She had crate trained Merlin, so she added a medium sized crate to her order as well. Satisfied, she had her purchases sent to the castle. It would be nice to have a dog again, even if it was a doglet and not a real dog, or as her father called all of the popular, tiny breeds, “little foo foo dog.”

Sarah began to wonder almost immediately if she had made a terrible mistake. For two days, the little thing wouldn’t even look at her, as she hid in her bed under a blanket. Sarah tried coaxing her with treats, peanut butter, even chicken tidbits as she called to the pup soothingly,

“Layla, Layla come,” all to no avail.

“Layla, hmmm?” asked the Goblin King.

Sarah shrugged. “There’s a baby name book in the nursery. It means dark beauty.”

Jareth looked at the scrawny black pup that resembled nothing so much as a rat with oversized ears and laughed.

“Beauty?” he chuckled, “Oh Precious.” He was still laughing as he left the bedroom.

“Don’t you listen to him,” Sarah said, as she continued to coax her new puppy.

On the third day, the pup decided that Sarah was to be tolerated and allowed herself to be petted. On the fourth day, Sarah was uncertain what had changed, but Layla had somehow reached the conclusion that Sarah was a goddess and was to be devoutly worshipped.

She laughed as the pup wriggled happily and tried to wash her face. Over the next few days, Sarah was delighted. Layla came when called, followed her everywhere, was very affectionate, loved to snuggle, and had even cozied up to the Goblin King.

He would never admit to it, but he was becoming almost as fond of the little pup as Sarah was. Whenever Sarah wasn’t available, Layla would slide surreptitiously into the Goblin King’s lap, and somehow he would be found later reading a report, absentmindedly petting the little dog he hadn’t consciously realized was there. Sarah would catch them and laugh, and he’d follow her gaze, glaring at the little sneak who then turned her big, sad eyes on him. He’d harrumph, sigh, and pet her again, as she settled back into his lap eagerly sucking up body heat.

She was the perfect companion, except for one tiny little thing; she was stubbornly insistent that the toilet was wherever she wanted it to be. Sarah sighed as she cleaned up yet another mess. How could a dog so eager to please otherwise be so damned stubborn? She glared at Layla. Sarah could swear that the little dog was pressing her own lips together and glaring back at Sarah. They were in something of a staring contest when Jareth entered the room and burst out laughing. Sarah looked at him, and Layla won the contest.

“Sarah,” he sighed at last, after two weeks with no progress. “You are going about this as a human would. You are Fae now; Fae have a deep connection to nature. Use your magic. Connect with her and show her what you expect from her.”

Sarah decided that it couldn’t hurt to try. After some effort, she now had impressions for “I’m cold,” “I’m hungry,” “I’m not really hungry but I want a treat anyway,” “Pet me,” “Let’s play,” and “I’m sleepy.”

Sarah waited almost patiently for “Uh oh, gotta go,” to come into play, and took her outside to the grass at a fast clip. After a few times of projecting her pleasure to Layla for appropriate behavior, the little dog had it down and a general sense of peace and contentment descended in the castle, the calm before the storm.


	50. 50

Chapter 50

 

Three days later, Jareth’s special messengers sent word that the catapults had been delivered and the troll army was breaking camp. The activity in the castle increased tenfold as Ryvak and other members of the goblin army could be seen coming and going at all hours.

Jareth again petitioned the High Fae council, but this time the toady administrator sent by the Troll King insisted that the troll army was simply on maneuvers and not amassing an invasion into the Goblin Kingdom.

Jareth swore violently, and Sarah watched as numerous crystals met their demise against the wall in his study. Increasingly Jareth began including Sarah in war strategy meetings, wanting her to understand. He hadn’t forgotten the Labyrinth’s prophecy. It’s foresight was not hindered as his was; Sarah would play a role in this conflict, and he needed her to be as informed as possible.

She learned two things very quickly: war was an extremely complicated business, and Jareth was a brilliant military commander. Quite frankly, she was overwhelmed until she devised a strategy. She started to view the pieces on the map like a game of Stratego or Battleship. She started thinking of them as puzzle pieces, the thousands of warriors marching toward them became the dozens of plastic figures spread out on the map.

It was clear from the movements of the troops so far that Erlinwold’s sole objective was the labyrinth. He had plotted a direct course for the castle and the labyrinth and not deviated from it so far. In a way, that minimized the problem of dealing with the citizens. They did not need to be evacuated, their cities and food stores remained intact, and it minimized citizen casualties.

On the other hand, Erlinwold was moving faster than expected. Jareth would have to choose a spot and make a stand soon; the trolls were now six days out from the Goblin City proper. Sarah was surprised, but the Underground knew about explosives. All of the roads near the Troll/Goblin border had been mined and now lay in ruins.

Despite this, Erlinwold pushed his troops to the breaking point, soldiers dragging the five massive catapults overland. They were still covering nearly thirty miles per day. Jareth himself had led two night raids to bring down the catapults. They were heavily bespelled. Even though they looked to be constructed of wood, they were immune to fire. Jareth had taken out two of them with direct magical assaults, leaving three of the dangerous behemoths to contend with, but that had left him weakened and vulnerable.

He needed time to recover before battle, and that was one commodity they were fast running out of. While the others tried to figure out a way to take out the catapults and win a land battle with a numerically superior fighting force, Sarah turned her attention to buying more time. She turned the problem over in her mind, twisting it and examining it from every angle. Finally, nerves shot, she took Layla for a walk in the garden.

She saw Henry, the new gardener, and started to turn away, but he had seen her and called out a greeting. It would be rude to ignore the little gnome. He was affable enough and most cheerful, but seeing him always reminded her of Hoggle and stirred feelings of concern and worry she didn’t need right now.

She pasted on a bright smile and approached him, calling a greeting.

He smiled and used his magic to make the flowers bloom for her as he pulled the tough, fibrous kudzu that was currently trying to strangle the roses to death.

“Henry,” Sarah said slowly, the beginning of an idea percolating. “Could you make the kudzu grow instead?”

“Why in tha’ world would I go and do som’n like that?” he exclaimed.

Sarah was undeterred. “I’m not asking you to do it; I just wanted to know if you could.”

“Well sure,” he replied. “Gnomes kin make ‘bout anythin’ grow and grow fast, and well, kudzu needs less encouragement than ‘bout anythin’ else.”

“Thanks, Henry,” Sarah shouted over her shoulder as she ran for Jareth’s study.


	51. 51

Chapter 51

“Do the gnomes still want to fight?” she asked breathlessly as she ran into the study.

“Sarah, they would be slaughtered,” Jareth replied, stunned. He had known Sarah could be cruel, but to sacrifice the gnomes…

“I’m not proposing that you send them into battle. I’m thinking more like magical guerilla warfare,” she said eagerly as she explained her plan.

When she finished outlining her plan, Jareth threw back his head and laughed. Ryvak grinned a malicious, approving grin. It was simple really; send the gnomes in under cover of darkness and let them encourage the kudzu and other plants to grow. By morning, the tough vines would have completely covered the catapults, choking the wheels, temporarily maiming the horses and making the other supplies unusable until it was all cut free. It would slow the advance by at least half and seriously damage the morale of the troll army.

It was brilliant.

And Jareth was more than pleased to tell her so. He conjured a crystal and contacted the Gnome King immediately. It seemed so simple. Sarah couldn’t believe it actually worked. Long distance scouts reported that it had taken the entire troll army nearly five hours to cut everything free. Sarah let out a whoop of joy that they probably heard in the Summer Kingdom.

That was when Sarah had her next idea. Convincing the castle goblins to take her to the Village of the Rock Callers was not nearly as difficult as she thought it would be. They were so loyal and eager to please. But traveling with them was not nearly as smooth as when Jareth transported her. As they materialized on the outskirts of the village, Sarah dropped to her knees and heaved out her breakfast.

When she straightened, she nodded to the goblins to line up and follow. She marched into the village and within a few minutes, one of the other residents had pointed her toward Ludo’s house. After numerous hugs and a brief catch-up session, she explained to Ludo that she needed to speak to their chief. He nodded happily and Sarah soon found herself in a chair that was much too large in the primitive office belonging to L’lano, the village chief and elder. Sarah then outlined her idea and asked for help.

The chief met with the Elder Council and Sarah waited anxiously.

She paced.

The goblins watched.

Eight steps and turn. Eight steps and turn. Eight steps and she ran full force into Jareth, who looked none too pleased to see her. Her eyes widened.

“Sarah, what are you doing here?” he demanded. “You know that you are more vulnerable when you are not with me or within the labyrinth.”

“I know, but I thought of something. I didn’t want to come bother you until I knew that the Rock Callers would help. They’re debating,” she sighed.

“What is this plan of yours?”

Sarah sketched it out briefly.

Jareth nodded approvingly. “It could work. The trolls have no choice now. They must pass through Sangmar Valley, and it is ideal for an ambush. They’ll be expecting to meet my troops in battle there, but this will be a surprise. I think I will make a general of you yet,” he said as he smiled at Sarah.

L’lano exited the council chambers, and with the usual brevity of his people, announced simply “Rock Callers help Sawah.”

_____________________

Sangmar Valley was a bloodbath. In his haste to possess the magic of the labyrinth, Erinwold ordered his troops into the pass, despite warnings from his generals that they would be incredibly vulnerable to an ambush.

Realizing that Erinwold was sacrificing good sense for speed, Jareth ordered the gnomes out two days in advance with orders to grow nutbrush, as much and as fast as possible. The Rock Callers positioned boulders on the hills ready to be called into battle and buried others. Jareth positioned archers with longbows and crossbows in every nook and cranny within the hills. He divided his ground forces, reserving half for a flanking maneuver that would cut off a retreat.

He reasoned that if Erlinwold was stupid enough to rush headlong into a situation ripe for an ambush, he would be too careless to adequately protect his flank. He turned out to be right.

Jareth allowed the bulk of Erlinwold’s forces to get over three quarters of the way through the pass, dragging the remaining three catapults with them, when he called for an all out assault.

The Rock Callers howled for their rocks, pulling the buried ones out of the ground first, overturning the catapults. The first round of archers launched flaming arrows into the heart of the brigade, setting the nutbrush aflame. Then the second wave of archers began picking off every soldier they could target.

Utter chaos reigned as the screaming, burning trolls broke ranks and ran for their lives. As the troll army panicked and rushed headlong forward or backward in retreat, the Goblin Army waiting at both ends of the valley cut them down where they stood, the flanking maneuver having squeezed the bulk of Erlinwold’s army between the soldiers of the Goblin Army.

Once the way was cleared, the other boulders began their speedy descent down the hills, damaging two of the catapults and smashing the third one beyond repair. Erlinwold’s army of 20,000 strong had been reduced significantly. Estimates put the survivors at 5,000 to 6,500 who were still capable of fighting. Goblin losses were minimal.

Sarah was certain Erlinwold would sue for peace, but she was very much mistaken. This is when she first began to suspect that the eldest son of the Troll King was no longer sane, if ever he had been. Erlinwold regrouped his forces, but now began going after softer, non-military targets, mostly small towns, burning, raping and pillaging before retreating back across the northern border into the Troll Kingdom.

Jareth was furious. He ordered the evacuation of every town and homestead within forty miles of the troll/goblin border. If he took his forces and marched for the Troll Kingdom, it would leave the Goblin Kingdom vulnerable to an attack if the trolls regrouped and marched in from either the east, the Dwarf Kingdom, or the west, the Pixie Kingdom, neither of which heavily policed their borders.

It was also possible that Erlinwold would split his forces, making them harder to track. This would decrease their fighting strength but significantly increase their mobility, leaving them capable of decimating several small towns at once and then fleeing into the woods or back across a border.

Jareth needed information and needed it fast. Advance scouts were sent out in every conceivable direction and local militias were on high alert. Jareth left to demand military aid once again from the High Fae Council. This time, there was no denying the troll aggression. He left just after dawn.

Sarah was already up and dressed. The ballroom and the dining hall had been converted to a makeshift hospital for the duration, as hospitals and clinics nearer to the border overflowed with casualties. Sarah was making significant progress as a healer, which pleased her immensely. She was nowhere near Athienne’s level, but she was useful.

Wearing practical clothing, jeans and a t-shirt, Sarah changed bandages, cleaned up vomit and dispensed medication when her magical assistance wasn’t needed. As the day passed, she grew more and more uneasy.


	52. 52

Chapter 52

Something was wrong.

It wasn’t an abandoned child. This was nothing like before. Her magic whispered of danger. By nightfall, Jareth still had not returned and Sarah was growing increasingly worried as the sense of impending danger increased. After a quick dinner, she had just ascended the first two steps of the marble staircase when it felt as if someone had stabbed her through the flesh of her upper right arm.

She screamed, a hoarse agonizing cry of pain, bringing Meep and several of the other household staff to her within moments. She stumbled to a seated position, basically letting her legs fall out from under her as she sat on the stairs, legs akimbo. Breaths coming in short, painful gasps, she looked at her arm finding no blood; her pale flesh was intact with nary a mark to show for the intense pain.

As she looked into the concerned faces of the staff, who were all murmuring offers of concern or help, there was only one set of eyes she sought. Seeing Ryvak at the back of the hall, weapon drawn, an angry gaze scouring the assembled crowd for a would be assassin, Sarah pushed herself up and walked unsteadily to stand directly before him.

“It’s Jareth,” she whispered, very, very certain that he was the source of her pain. “Find him now,” she hissed.

Ryvak nodded grimly and vanished. Sarah quietly assured the staff that she had only tripped, that she was fine. She pasted on a reassuring smile, and after everyone dispersed, she ran upstairs, hastily seated herself at her vanity table and shouted, “Summer Queen!”

A moment later the image of a young woman with white blonde hair appeared, a surprised look of confusion on her face as she regarded the messy, brunette girl wearing an old, frayed David Bowie t-shirt. Her classic Fae eyebrows arched in astonishment.

“Do I know you?” she asked politely.

“No,…no, I don’t think we’ve ever met,” Sarah stammered. “I think I want your mother, Adin, the Dowager Summer Queen,” Sarah replied.

“Ahhhh, my mother-in-law actually. She’s visiting. If you can wait just a moment, I’ll get her for you.” She smiled and her long skirts swirled as she turned away from the mirror.

Sarah tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for what seemed like forever but was actually less than five minutes. Where was Jareth? Sarah paced anxiously in front of her mirror.

“Hello, Sarah, dear. This is a surprise,” came the musical voice of the Dowager Summer Queen.

Sarah sat hastily. “I need your help,” she blurted.

The look of stark fear made the teasing note in the Dowager Summer Queen’s voice vanish instantly as she immediately replied, “What can I do?”

Sarah recounted the relevant events. “…and I have the goblin army out searching now, but so far there has been no word,” she concluded. “I need to know. Is it, the pain I mean,… the Faelium bond warning me? Is he really hurt? And if he is…,” Sarah struggled to put her frantic thoughts into intelligible speech, “can I use it somehow to find him?”

“Very likely,” she replied in hasty, clipped words. “Listen to me. Jareth has warded the castle heavily. I need you to reach out with your magic as the Goblin Queen and authorize access. I will transport to you. I believe I can help.”

Sarah nodded. “How do I do that?” The Dowager Summer Queen quickly outlined the process. Reaching out with her magic, Sarah felt for boundaries. As she reached them, she felt like she had just slammed into a cement wall. She gasped and pulled back a little until she was just pressing against the barrier as she thought of the Dowager Summer Queen and pictured the woman passing through the boundary and materializing in the castle. She prayed fervently that she was doing this right. A moment later the Fae woman stood next to Sarah.

“Alright,” Adin said briskly, “tell me what you feel when you think of Jareth. Push your magic outward as if you were reaching out to grasp his hand.”

Sarah closed her eyes and did as instructed, finding nothing but a hollow, empty blackness.

“Nothing,” she whispered at last. “There’s nothing. Does that mean he’s dead?” Sarah asked, holding back a choked sob.

“No, you would have felt the bond rip if he had died. You wouldn’t even be conscious. You are tied together in a way that goes beyond logical understanding. The Faelium is a bond of love and magic.”

“We’re not in love,” Sarah denied.

The old Summer Queen smiled at her indulgently, like one smiles to a beloved but ignorant child—the way Sarah sometimes smiled at Toby when he expressed a fervent desire to ride a dinosaur.

“Certain of that, are you?” she inquired softly. Before Sarah could reply, she rushed on. “No, the nothingness means that Jareth isn’t conscious. You will have to reach through the bond and force him to awaken. He will resist; most likely he’s in terrible pain right now from what you’ve told me. Once he is conscious, you should be able to use the bond to orient to his position. It will be a crude…homing beacon…to your magical senses.”

“Okay,” Sara said. “How do we start?”

“Lie down,” the Summer Queen said as she gestured toward the bed.

Sarah did so and immediately heard a whine. Layla was trying to climb the quilt to be with her. Sarah reached over and picked up the little pup, placing her on the bed next to her. Layla thought it was play time and licked Sarah’s face eagerly, patting her paws on the coverlet. Sarah projected an image of a sleeping Sarah and Layla, and with an unhappy grunt the pup lay down and settled in for a nap, cuddled closely to Sarah’s right thigh.

“Now close your eyes and look into your own mind, into your heart and soul. Feel for the bond.”

“How will I know when…?” Sarah asked, unsure.

“Think of Jareth, of all he is to you, your lo…, your feelings for him,” Adin corrected herself with a small smile.

Sarah sighed. What did she think of the Goblin King? It was a question she tried never to ask herself, afraid of the answer. He was annoying, high handed and bossy, mercurial—his mood swings could almost cause whiplash, brilliant, cunning, vicious and cruel when it suited him, generous, tender, lonely, fiercely loyal to his subjects, a good brother and son, both patient and impatient by turns… This was getting her nowhere fast; she said as much.

“No, Sarah, not what is he in general, not the traits, what is he to you? Focus only on that and your feelings for him,” Adin replied softly.

Damn! This was exactly where Sarah did not want to go. But, Jareth was in trouble, and this was the only way to find him. The Goblin Kingdom was thousands of square miles alone, and he could be anywhere, even Above, and that was just too much territory to hope that one of the search parties would just stumble across him.

Sarah sighed and refocused. What did she think of the Goblin King? Goblin King…Goblin King, her thoughts swirled, but her heart whispered Jareth. The dichotomy easily resolved itself. Her husband was Jareth; the Goblin King was more like a role he played, depending on what the wisher needed or wanted from him. He had played that role with her when he was angry, she admitted, but it seemed to her that even when he did, it was a mask he wore; she remembered the gentleness of his hands and the tenderness in his eyes even through his anger.

She pushed the Goblin King from her mind and thought of Jareth, focusing solely on who he was with her. She flushed scarlet as the first thing she thought of was the tender, gentle and giving lover. She pushed that into a dark corner of her mind. She smiled as she remembered the delighted sparkle in his eyes whenever they played a game. She enjoyed his competitive spirit and his dry sense of humor. He loved to make mischief and to tease her. She laughed a little as she recalled catching him singing and dancing with the castle goblins. She thought of his kindness then as he carefully placed wished away children into loving Fae homes, his dedication to his duties as Goblin King—both the sovereign and as a protector of children. She admired his loyalty to his family and his subjects. She respected him as well; he was a brilliant military commander, a cunning adversary who was usually three steps ahead of everyone else. He could be cruel as well; she remembered the ice in his eyes when he dealt with the father of the abused wished away. He could be vain and petty, childish. But, life was always interesting, and she no longer had any real desire to return to her life Above.

Jareth was… complicated, she smiled to herself.

As she thought of him a bright warmth surged around her heart, and a feeling of peace enveloped her. She belonged here, in the Underground. She belonged with Jareth, no matter what. She could no longer deny it as the wall around her heart broke, and she admitted to herself that she truly cared for him, vain, stubborn, arrogant Fae. As Adin instructed, Sarah traced those feelings, carefully traversing along the Faelium bond until she reached a warm darkness, Jareth’s unconscious mind.

“Jareth!” she silently screamed into the void, no small amount of fear and anxiety coloring her own emotions.

Confusion….Surprise…Pain.

Sarah gasped at the sheer amount of pain as the darkness swirled. “No,” she shouted again. “You have to stay conscious for a little while. It’s the only way we can find you. Tell me where you are.”

Impressions came to her then. Flying, looking for troop movements. Locating an advance scouting party, arrows flying thick and fast, one piercing a wing, falling—descent uncontrolled, landing hard and awkwardly, bones snapping, crawling underneath a blackberry thicket, footsteps of the trolls as they began a search grid, darkness.

Sarah had seen it all from an owl’s perspective, eyesight keen and hearing acute. She snapped her eyes open, tucking her puppy under one arm and running for Jareth’s study, Adin following as quickly as she could.

“I need a map,” she shouted to several of the goblin officers who were standing outside Jareth’s study. “We have to hurry. He doesn’t have much time left. Get Ryvak,” she ordered as she began unfurling a topographical map of the Goblin Kingdom.

“There,” Sarah said pointing at a heavily forested area.

“Angovar Forest,” muttered the recently arrived Ryvak. “It would be good cover to conceal a small scouting party,” he conceded. “We will begin a grid search immediately,” Ryvak announced as he began issuing orders.

“No,” Sarah countermanded. “That’ll take too much time. Transport me,” she demanded.

“Sarah, no,” Adin refuted. “You are vulnerable outside this castle, right now. Jareth is injured, maybe mortally wounded. If anything were to happen to you…” she trailed off, fear in her voice.

“If anything happens to me, you’re in charge,” Sarah said, dealing with the immediate problem. “But, I’m the only one with a bond to Jareth. I’m the only one who can find him without stumbling around in the dark for hours, wasting time. If he has any chance at all, he has to get medical help immediately,” she insisted forcefully.

“You’re thinking with your heart, not your head,” Adin insisted. “The Goblin Kingdom needs you.”

“So does Jareth, and he’s the one who made me the Goblin Queen. And, he did it knowing that in a tough spot, I think with my heart.” The memory of a long fall after a blind leap of faith to reach Toby ran through her mind.

“Ryvak will protect me,” she asserted forcefully as she shoved an unwilling Layla into the Summer Queen’s arms and took hold of Ryvak’s arm tightly in preparation for transport.

Ryvak nodded once, a quick, calculated affirmation. No one would touch his Queen.


	53. 53

Chapter 53

Sarah felt the sickening lurch of a goblin controlled transport and barely managed to avoid tossing her cookies. Immediately, she looked around, looking for anything that appeared even remotely familiar from Jareth’s vision that he had sent to her earlier. Seeing nothing, she sank to the ground, closed her eyes and felt for the bond.

“Pull me to you,” she whispered, feeling at last a bright spark of warmth that pulled her northeast, into the forest.

“This way,” she said as she led the way, dodging branches and trying not to trip on exposed tree roots.

“We found the troll base camp, Captain Ryvak,” a young soldier reported. “It was deserted. We’re tracking them now; they’re heading south toward the dwarf city. We think they must have fled when they realized how outnumbered they are by the goblin forces. They’re ill trained. Their tracks and their stench are easy enough to follow,” he said harshly as he spat into the underbrush.

“Implement standard procedure. Take them alive if you can for interrogation. Keep me informed,” Ryvak snapped, and the young private disappeared.

A little less than fifteen minutes later, Sarah felt Jareth’s presence. Falling to her knees, she plunged both arms shoulder deep into a blackberry thicket, heedless of the deep scratches she was sustaining. With a soft cry of triumph, she pulled forth a badly bleeding ivory barn owl into a secure hold against her chest.

Without being instructed, Ryvak transported his Queen and King directly to the medical ward at the castle.

______________________________________

“I’m not going to sugar coat this,” Athienne said tiredly.

The first rays of dawn were just beginning to lighten the sky over the labyrinth. It was beautiful, the soft orangey rose reflecting off the silver glitter that seemed to mark the entire kingdom. Sarah saw none of it.

“He’s stable,” said the small healer.

But as Sarah went to rush past her into the infirmary, Athienne added, “for now.”

Sarah stopped in her tracks and turned her full attention to the Elvish healer.

“What do you mean, for now?”

Athienne sighed. “We have been able to use magic to transition Jareth back into his normal Fae form. The broken bones are mended and the injury from the arrow is still bleeding but healing.”

“This sounds like good news to me,” Sarah said at last. “So, what’s the problem?”

“The arrow was iron tipped. If that weren’t bad enough, it was also poisoned. I have been a healer for longer than Jareth has been alive, and yet, I have never seen this poison before. I know not what it is or how to treat it. If I don’t figure it out soon, he will be dead in less than a week,” Athienne said starkly.

“The castle library, researchers, more healers, whatever you need…” Sarah said shakily. “Name it,” she commanded.

“Time,” said Athienne on a heavy sigh. “Our best chance right now is to put him into a medically induced healing coma. It won’t save him,” she said, as she saw the look of hope flare in Sarah’s eyes. “But it will slow the progression of the poison. It may give us as much as a fortnight before….”

“Do it,” Sarah said.

“He is refusing. He insists that he must remain conscious to coordinate the troops and the civilian evacuations.”

“Like hell,” Sarah snapped in agitation. “Can you override his consent?” At the mystified look, Sarah clarified. “Can you force him into the coma anyway?”

“Yes, he is very weak, but it would be treason to do so.”

“I think this qualifies as an emergency,” Sarah murmured to herself. “If he can do it to me, I can do it to him.”

Athienne continued to look both confused and apprehensive.

“What if I order you to do it? Would it still be treason? Would you do it then?”

The small Elvish healer hesitated and then slowly began to smile as she recognized the same, subtle loophole that Sarah had. A direct order from the Goblin Queen….

“Yes, yes I would,” she replied at last, still smiling.

“Good,” Sarah said as she strode past the other woman to confront her stubborn Fae husband.

________________________________

Sarah stalked into the infirmary ready to do battle with the entire troll army. What she saw, however, stopped her dead in her tracks. Jareth lay pale and wan, whiter than the sheets, an aura of weakness and frailty surrounding him. The normal glowing moon pearl complexion of the Fae had fled completely, even under the arches of his brows. His right arm was heavily bandaged, and the only color anywhere near his person was the bright splotch of red that had seeped through the bandage.

As she took several hesitant steps further into the room, Jareth, either sensing her with magic or reacting to the movement, struggled to sit. As he did so, Sarah noted numbly that he was naked to the waist. Where the blankets had fallen, she could see more colors now, blue and purple mostly.

“Sarah,” he said, his voice a ragged whisper so unlike his usual seductively teasing tone that Sarah was uncertain for a moment that it was Jareth who had actually spoken.

She advanced into the room, still uncertain, sitting awkwardly but gently on the side of the bed. With some trepidation, she reached for his hand, relieved to feel the strong answering squeeze against her own chilled fingertips. Not quite as bad as she had feared then. But, still nowhere near the realm of good. To say that she was unprepared for this would have been a gross understatement, though.

“Jareth,” she began, trying not to bite her lip. “Athienne said…”

“No,” he interrupted.

“But the poison…,” Sarah whispered savagely.

“No,” Jareth repeated, voice getting stronger and more heated.

Sarah was uncertain what this show of bravado was costing him.

“You are not prepared to do this alone.”

A brief moment of inspiration hit.

“But I won’t be alone, Jareth. I have Ryvak and the goblin army, and the Labyrinth. You told me that it promised to protect me. I have Adin and the Gnome King too,” she insisted desperately, torn between wanting him to stay with her, to lean on his strength and protection, and standing on her own. For despite her words, she knew she would be wholly alone, all decisions, all responsibilities on the shoulders of an untested teenage girl.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The one thing, the only thing, she knew for certain was that her heart was insistent—Jareth must not die. It was one conclusion she was not prepared to examine too closely. It must be so.

His eyes remained stubborn, and his jaw set in a hard line. Very well then, if it had to be this way.

“I consider this an emergency, Jareth. If you won’t consent, I’ll order the healers to do it anyway and force you into the coma.”

His eyes widened slightly on a deep inhale of breath.

“Sarah, our agreement…”

“Had nothing to do with the reverse situation,” she cut him off ruthlessly. “I made no promises to you,” she pointed out harshly.

She was getting very good at working around the intricacies of Fae language and binding promises. She felt some small measure of guilt for subverting his own wishes, but not nearly enough to back down now. He glared, eyes narrowed and expression hard. Oh he was angry.

“Jareth,” she began lamely.

He held up a hand to stop her apology, but she ignored him and pushed on anyway.

“If…no,” she whispered, “when you wake up, you can hate me for this, but we…I … can’t lose you.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and waited for his tirade.

Jareth could wield anger and words like a scalpel when it suited him, and she braced herself, waiting for the first cut to come. She waited in vain for an incision that never came. “As you wish,” he conceded at last. He did not look happy about it.

“This is a battle I cannot win. But, before you have Athienne and the other healers do this, send Ryvak to me. I must speak with him now.”

Sarah nodded and began to stand. Jareth tightened his hold on her hand briefly. She looked back at him nervously.

“I do hope you know what you’re doing, Precious,” he said softly, eyebrow quirking.

“So do I,” Sarah whispered too low to be heard as she exited the room.


	54. 54

Chapter 54

After meeting with Ryvak alone for nearly an hour, the goblin Captain exited the infirmary and indicated that Jareth was ready for the healers.

Sarah crept in with them, conflicted. She knew she was not Jareth’s favorite person right now, not even in the top ten, but she was unwilling to be anywhere else.

He motioned for her as the healers reviewed their incantations once more; they were just distant enough to allow a bit of privacy. He met her with a hard, direct gaze, urgency apparent in his eyes.

“Time is short,” he whispered, glancing at the healers. “I believe you can do this, Sarah. If I did not, I would fight both you and the healers to remain conscious. Ryvak has instructions. If things do go horribly wrong, he will keep you safe.”

Jareth hesitated then; the healers were approaching. He reached up and threaded his fingers through the loose hair at her nape that had worked itself free of her braid and pulled her in for a tender kiss. The healers began to chant.

“I love you, Sarah,” he whispered softly, fingers going lax and hand falling to his side as darkness took him at last.

_____________________________________

Sarah gasped and sat staring into nothing as the inert form of the Goblin King lay sleeping at her side. She continued to sit for hours, feeling as if his last, whispered confession had been a sucker punch to her gut rather than a declaration of love.

_What was she going to do now?_

Her solitary musings were interrupted by the arrival of Ryvak.

“We have captured the advance scouting party, My Queen,” he reported. “At least most of them. Two chose death rather than capture.”

“I see,” Sarah replied, not seeing at all.

“Do you wish to be involved in the questioning?” he asked at last.

“No,” she sighed. _What use would she be, anyway_ , she thought to herself.

Ryvak hesitated. “Do you have any restrictions as to the questioning?” he asked.

Sarah looked at Jareth, weak and vulnerable in the coma, reminding herself again that one of them had shot her husband.

“I don’t care what you do to them,” she replied heavily, turning away.

She picked up her old, battered copy of Labyrinth and began to read to Jareth, hoping he could hear her. Some hours later, maybe it was a day, possibly two—she wasn’t quite sure, she had completed Labyrinth and another book and was well into Le Morte d’ Arthur.

Jareth slept on, oblivious.

Dimly she realized that most of the castle’s special goblins were clustered around the bed, listening to her read, but she was beyond caring. Sarah read, numb and overwhelmed, too frightened to go down to Jareth’s study—the war room—and find out what was happening. So, she huddled next to Jareth’s still form and tried desperately to forget all of it. It was working well until Moreth invaded her solitude.

“Ryvak sent me, Highness,” he murmured. “You need to pack essentials and come with me. We will get you to safety,” he announced.

“What…why?” Sarah asked, confused.

“During the past two days,” Moreth hesitated, “the troll army has regrouped and received reinforcements. They now march for the Goblin City. We have engaged the enemy twice now and taken substantial losses. Ryvak is a good captain but no military strategist. The only one who could devise a strategy to win this war now lies near death,” he said, nodding toward Jareth. “The troll army is now only five days march from the Goblin City. We must get you to safety.”

“Leave?” Sarah asked, fear warring with numb surprise. “What about….?” She trailed off, waving her hand around her to encompass the special goblins, Jareth and then a wider sweep to include the castle and city.

“The Goblin Kingdom will fall, My Queen,” he said stoically. “Many can still be evacuated. The High Fae Council may or may not provide the assistance they promised in time to be of any actual help. But, we will carry out the King’s final order and get you to safety. The remaining soldiers will hold off the troll army as long as they can to allow the citizens to escape.”

The goblins at Sarah’s feet had begun sobbing, most softly, a few escalating to wails as their plight sank home.

“If Queen leaves, no hope left,” one murmured. Sarah thought it was Sprog. The others agreed and continued to sob.

She looked from Moreth to the goblins and back again, torn, her feet unwilling to move as the words of the Labyrinth’s prophecy returned, as nearly as she could remember:

_Sarah Williams will learn the final lesson, the one the dwarf deprived her of. And in so learning, she will either become the Goblin Queen or the Goblin Kingdom will fall._

“Give me a few minutes alone, with Jareth,” she said at last to no one in particular.

The goblins shuffled out, still crying and whispering laments amongst themselves. Moreth hesitated, about to speak; he thought better of it and nodded slightly, closing the door behind him.

Sarah sat on the bed next to Jareth, pulled her knees tightly to her chest and, at last, let the tears come.

“Help me, Jareth,” she whispered brokenly. “What should I do? What was the final lesson? Does Hoggle know? If I can find him, will he tell me?”

Her thoughts spun, overwhelming despair seizing and holding her like a rabbit caught in a snare; the more she struggled, the tighter it bound her. She allowed herself to give in for a moment and then mentally shook herself. She had to figure this out.

What lesson had Hoggle deprived her of? He had defied Jareth only once. He was supposed to lead her back to the beginning of the labyrinth, so almost half of her allotted time would have passed, and she would have had to start over from the beginning. If he had done as instructed, then things would have seemed completely hopeless.

Would she have been able to push through the utter despair and the sense of complete hopelessness and take action, to marshal her will, focus on the goal and save Toby?

Or would she have given up, cried out that it wasn’t fair?

With a sickening mental jolt, she realized that was exactly where she was now. This then was the lesson: she had to fight, despite the odds, despite the complete lack of hope. She played the Labyrinth’s prophecy through again:

_Sarah Williams will learn the final lesson, the one the dwarf deprived her of._

Alright, she knew what the final lesson was, theoretically. She had to screw her courage to the sticking point, master her fear, and push on in the face of utter hopelessness. In this case, a feat not far shy of impossible.

That left the second part of the prophecy.

_And in so learning, she will either become the Goblin Queen or the Goblin Kingdom will fall._

Okay, she had to become the Goblin Queen or the kingdom would fall. That was the key word— **OR**.

That meant that there were two possible futures. The Goblin Kingdom would fall **OR** she would figure out how to be the Goblin Queen, how to lead her subjects, fight this war, and save them all.

The Labyrinth had foreseen it. It was possible. She now had to figure out how.

The kicker, of course, was that she was on her own. The Labyrinth parceled out information like picking gold out of a river—a tiny nugget here and there. It would not help her now.

Well, first things first. If she had learned nothing else from her mother, she knew how to play a part.

She strode from the infirmary, a determined, take no prisoners air surrounding her. The castle staff stepped back carefully and watched her as she took the stairs two at a time and disappeared into her bedroom. Ten minutes later, the old jeans and t-shirt had vanished, leaving Sarah in her bitch queen from hell costume.

She settled the diadem on her own forehead, as the Goblin Queen emerged to lead her subjects.


	55. 55

Chapter 55

“Tell me what’s been going on,” Sarah demanded as she marched into Jareth’s study.

The Goblin officers hastily got to their feet, as she moved to settle herself at Jareth’s desk.

“So,” Sarah mused a few minutes later, “our biggest problems right now are the need for a military commander-strategist and how to extract information from the two remaining spies.”

Sarah tapped her gloved fingertips impatiently on the desk top. Well, if this were a role-playing game, she knew what she would do. The problem was that she was dealing with real people, maybe not human but living flesh and blood creatures.

She thought of the special goblins then, crying in utter despair, the looks of worry on the faces of the staff, the broken, mangled bodies of both citizens and soldiers in the castle’s makeshift infirmary, of Jareth currently lying in a coma—dying slowly because a brutal, insane creature was allowed to lead a kingdom.

Her sympathy evaporated instantly.

Jareth had been right all along, she realized; sometimes the end did justify the means.

“Bring the spies to the throne room,” she commanded. ___________________________________________

Sarah watched dispassionately as two troll warriors were dragged into the throne room; iron chains bound their wrists and iron shackles hobbled their ankles. They tottered to a standstill about ten feet from the throne, before Ryvak kicked them soundly behind the knees, demanding that they bow to the Queen.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked conversationally.

“You’re Erlinwold’s whore bitch as soon as the army reaches the city,” the elder of the two soldiers laughed caustically.

Sarah had counted on one of them mouthing off. She pointed one gloved finger directly at his crotch and allowed her anger, terror, and confusion to boil over, pushing one bright blue bolt of energy through her glove with devastating results.

This was no moderate electrical jolt as Sprog had received. This energy slammed into the unsuspecting troll with incredible force, lifting him off of his feet and sending him into the stone wall with a sickening and nearly deafening slam. Seared, congealing blood seeped through the pants of his uniform while compound fractures of the clavicle and humerus exposed raw, white bone to the air.

This was far more than she had intended, but she instantly schooled her features. For this to work, the other one had to believe that she didn’t care if she had just murdered his compatriot in cold blood.

“Perhaps you have a different answer,” Sarah said offhandedly to the other troll who was staring at the floor desperately trying not to be sick at the scent of burning hair and cooked troll flesh.

Unknown to him, several of the goblin soldiers were struggling with the same problem.

“Goblin Queen,” he acknowledged, still staring at the floor, occasionally taking a surreptitious glance around the room or at Sarah.

“I need information,” Sarah said coolly. “If you provide the answers I need, you may yet live through this unscathed. If not, …” She shrugged carelessly.

The acting workshops she had taken in an attempt to win her mother’s love and approval were, hopefully, about to pay off.

The injured troll had begun to moan softly. At this, he struggled to speak.

“Tell her nothing,” he gasped, each word sounding as if he were pushing it past a knife sawing through his throat.

The young troll clamped his lips tightly together and looked again at the floor.

“I’m tired of playing,” Sarah hissed.

She mentally crossed her fingers and prayed. Physical pain wasn’t going to get her what she needed, and truth be told, she was very close to breaking down at the destruction she had wrought already.

“If you don’t tell me,” Sarah threatened coldly, “I will rip it from your mind. And, I don’t particularly care if there is anything left of your mind when I finish.”

She had heard that some high level sorcerers could actually do this; she was betting that he didn’t know that she wasn’t one of them. She took off her gloves and conjured blue-white electricity that danced in a devastating looking arc across her fingertips. May as well give ‘em a good show.

She approached slowly, letting the energy build as he continued to stare. As she came within an arm’s length, he suddenly shouted,

“Wait. What do you want to know?” he gasped, fear making his speech erratic and hard to understand.

His compatriot was about to cry out again, when Sarah saw Ryvak kick him brutally in the back of the head. Sarah was fairly certain he would now be silent forever, and the guilt rose hot and fresh in her like bile from her stomach. She swallowed hard. Later, she whispered to herself.

Sarah demanded troop movements, battle strategy and attack information. As a low level scout, he gave up what he knew, which turned out to be not much of anything. There was only one thing more he could give her.

“The poison,” she said at last. “What poison was on the arrow that shot the owl?”

“You mean the Goblin King? We knew it was him. Prince Erlinwold knew he would do the honorable thing, follow the law and go to the High Fae Council. Our spy waited for him at Court, saw him transform and notified us he was heading our way. We ambushed him over the forest.”

Sarah felt cold horror as she realized that all of the recent attacks on civilians had been nothing more than a ploy to lure the Goblin King into an ambush.

“The poison,” she repeated.

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. There’s no antidote. It’s black dragon’s blood.”

Sarah nodded, holding her haughty demeanor, unwilling to break down now.

“Which of you shot the owl?” she asked, her voice deceptively calm.

“Kivit, I think,” he said as he gestured to his dead compatriot. “He took credit for it, anyway. But there were lots of arrows shot. Kivit just happened to be the best distance archer in the raiding party.”

“Dispose of that…mess,” she said as she gestured to the dead troll.

“And this one, my Queen?” asked Moreth as he pulled the young troll soldier to his feet.

“Toss him into the oubliette of your choice,” Sarah said as she turned back to the throne and seated herself. “Fetch Athienne,” she said to one of the younger goblin soldiers.

After she had conferred with Athienne and discovered that black dragon’s blood truly had no antidote, Sarah had to fight off another bout of lingering, creeping despondency.

Athienne had promised to try, and that was the best Sarah could hope for right now.


	56. 56

Chapter 56

Now there was one other issue to resolve. They needed a military commander, and they needed one fast. There was only one person Sarah could think of who might have the information necessary to make the most out of the remaining goblin troops. He was brilliant, but his knowledge was almost wholly theoretical. Still it was the best resource available, and Jareth had told her once that a good monarch takes advantage of every available resource.

“Ryvak,” she called at last, summoning the Goblin Captain to the throne. “I’ll need six or seven of your best soldiers.”

“It would help, Your Majesty, if I knew what you needed them for,” he said levelly.

“Protection. Ask for volunteers for this. It’s dangerous. I’m going Above. Your Queen is about to order and orchestrate a blatantly illegal kidnapping,” she said, as she walked out of the throne room.

Ryvak grinned. King Jareth had told him that she was the Goblin Queen. He’d had his doubts, more than doubts really. But he had to give credit where it was owed. There was more to her than he had first believed. He hurried to the barracks to round up volunteers.

______________________________

As Sarah explained to the assembled goblin soldiers the glamour disguises they would need to use and the objective of their mission, they never missed a beat. She had to hand it to them. They were pretty well unflappable.

She explained that she would try diplomacy and persuasion first. They were to hold back until she gave them the signal. If her target refused to cooperate, they would simply take him.

“Everyone ready?” she asked as steadily as she could.

As they nodded, she gave herself a little shake in preparation of another goblin transport and clenched her stomach muscles.

“Okay then, let’s go.”

_______________________________

“Hello Westport High School,” she said as she greeted the old building where she used to spend the majority of her days studying largely useless information.

“Let’s go,” said the young girl who appeared to be wearing jeans and a heavy sweatshirt.

She was flanked by half the football team, all wearing full gear, including helmets. It took less magic to disguise them if only their faces had to be concealed. Sarah led the way into the school as the final school buses began pulling out of the parking lot transporting the students home for the day. She ignored them, a particular destination in mind. With her ‘football team’ escort, she quickly located the classroom of Mr. Preussner, her history teacher.

Having enlisted in the army right out of high school, he had worked his way up from private to master sergeant until his retirement twenty-six years later. Bored, he had used the GI Bill to get a college education and begin his second career as a teacher. His passion was battle tactics, and he had spent many of their history lessons analyzing and dissecting numerous battles, campaign strategies and military tactics in general. He was a huge fan of Napoleon’s now famous three prong attack as well as Hannibal’s tactics in the Second Punic War. If anyone could figure out a way to utilize the Goblin Army to its fullest potential and mount a successful defense to the approaching invasion, it would be this man.

Sarah entered the small classroom with five of her soldiers, leaving two members of the ‘football team’ outside the door to act as lookouts.

“Sarah Williams,” he said surprised. “We heard you were attending an elite girl’s school in Switzerland,” he began.

Sarah didn’t have time for this. Every minute spent Above she was vulnerable. Moreover, every minute spent Above was one minute less spent preparing for invasion. Sarah made an executive decision. She dropped her glamour, revealing herself in her guise as Goblin Queen. The trolls, following their Queen’s lead, did the same and removed their helmets.

“Oh my God,” muttered Michael Preussner, as he pulled off wire-rimmed spectacles and rubbed his eyes, struggling to sit down by sheer feel alone.

“Mr. Preussner,” Sarah began. “I’m sorry, but we really don’t have a lot of time,” she said pointedly. “As you can see, I am not a student in Switzerland. I am the Goblin Queen. These are some of my goblin soldiers, and we need your help.”

As he sat in stunned silence, Sarah outlined the dire situation in the Goblin Kingdom. “Invasion is only a few days away,” she concluded. “We desperately need your military expertise. I know this isn’t something you ever really planned for, but it is a chance to make a difference, to save thousands of innocent lives. What do you say?” she asked finally.

What did he say?

_What did she think he’d say_ , he wondered. This was insane, and yet, a part of him was tempted. He had become a teacher to make a difference. But, he spent day after day trying to teach unmotivated, entitled brats while simultaneously fighting his own administration that cared about nothing but body counts, because, after all, live warm breathing students correlated with state education dollars. No one seemed to care whether the students actually learned anything or not—not the administration, not the parents, and certainly not the students themselves.

“What about my responsibilities?” he said at last, wondering why he was even asking. He certainly had no intention…

Sarah waved her hand and blue white magic crackled into an energy ball, becoming a sheaf of official looking documents.

“Your approved paperwork for emergency personal leave,” she said simply.

He stared dumbly at the papers. His younger self crowed internally with delight. He had originally joined the military to see the world and have adventures. He had begun to think adventure was beyond him now. At fifty-six years of age, he had begun to wonder if this is all there was, biding his time until retirement when he was too old and too discouraged to be of any use to anyone.

He looked again at his best former student and the frightening goblin soldiers. A second chance at adventure, at life….

“When do we leave?” he asked, scarcely believing this was happening.

Sarah left the paperwork on Principal Rayburn’s desk, and they disappeared.


	57. 57

Chapter 57

Two problems solved her very first real day as the Goblin Queen. Jareth would have been proud of her.

Now, she stepped back and let General Preussner, as she had proclaimed him, begin coordinating the troops. After a crash course in the Underground, magical abilities of the various creatures, and a good understanding of what he was up against, he essentially took over Jareth’s study as he issued instructions and little plastic pieces began moving on various maps.

Ryvak was most satisfied.

With the extent of the mapped troop movements and the additional personnel constantly in and out of the study, more room was soon needed. Sarah ordered that the entire west wing be prepared. Tables, chairs, charts and other paraphernalia were moved into the new command center.

As the goblins moved books and charts, Moreth approached Sarah when he found one that didn’t belong. He handed her a medical treatise written in Latin. Sarah realized it must have been something Jareth was looking through, but she couldn’t fathom why. She shrugged and set it aside.

Sarah stayed on the periphery, knowing enough to stay out of the way when she wasn’t needed, using her costume and Goblin Queen persona to boost morale among the troops and encourage the sick and wounded.

Now, her thoughts turned increasingly to Jareth. The one entity she had not yet tapped, the Labyrinth, remained. Athienne continued to research but held out little hope for a cure. The Labyrinth was the last resource available. She headed for the labyrinth with all due speed and was stopped in her tracks by Moreth who headed her off in the courtyard.

“My Queen,” he whispered urgently. “There are creatures here to see you. They insist they will speak only to you. I wouldn’t bother you, but I believe them to be truthful, and the one…he will not live much longer. Come,” he said as he began leading her around the courtyard toward the conservatory.

Sarah was uncertain, but gamely followed, trying to figure out why these two wanted to see her and not Ryvak or General Preussner.

As Sarah entered the conservatory, her eyes went automatically to two lumps near the lilac tree. One was Hoggle, his back pressed to the tree trunk, looking alive but exhausted. The other was Sir Didymus. He lay curled in a fetal position, one leg bent at an unnatural angle, but Sarah’s magic whispered of more extensive damage, internal hemorrhaging. He panted weakly, eyes half closed.

Sarah knew that posture all too well, for it was she who had found her father’s ancient beagle, Barnabas, listless and uncaring, curled up in the same position out in the garden when she was nine. Her father had explained to her that he knew it was his time -- that he was simply waiting to die.

“Fetch a healer,” Sarah shouted to Moreth as she dropped to her knees next to her friends.

“Already done, my Queen.” Moreth replied as he stood watch at the doorway, looking anxiously for Athienne or one of her team, ready to wave them inside.

Sarah stripped off her gloves and pressed her hands to the small, broken body of the little fox.

Sir Didymus opened his eyes and shook his head. “No, My Lady,” he whispered, “no time. You must listen. The troll army marches from the north, this you know. However, unknown to you a division of reinforcements, over two thousand strong, returned to Sangmar Valley. They have repaired the remaining two catapults by cannibalizing the third one, the one broken beyond repair. They march on the Goblin City from the east concealed by the magic of the Raven Mage. They will be here in less than two days’ time,” the little fox gasped out on a broken sigh.

Sarah gasped and sat back on her heels.

“Moreth,” she called sharply. “Tell Ryvak and Preussner immediately. And where is that healer?” she shouted.

She looked at her friend. He was gasping now and his lips had turned a bluish tint, as if he had been eating blueberries until the juice had stained his skin.

“I can’t do much,” she muttered, “but I can do some healing. No, let me,” she insisted as Didymus pawed at her gently, pushing her away.

“Too late,” he murmured.

“Like hell,” Sarah answered, as she poured forth magic into her friend. As she did so, warm memories flooded her mind, of her gallant, noble friend—so eager to help, to show her a kindness, to accompany her into danger at the drop of a hat. She let the magic flow, unchecked, like her love for her little friend until white lights danced before her eyes, and she collapsed in a stupor next to him.

“Sarah,” shouted Hoggle, pushing himself to his feet and rushing to her side. So upset was he that he no longer felt the cruel exhaustion that had been plaguing him since before they had left camp that morning. Much of it was due to carrying Didymus since his injury, since leaving Sangmar Valley, but he refused to leave his friend behind.

“I’m alright…I’m alright,” Sarah insisted as she sat up slowly. “Just forgot to eat again,” she muttered.

Sarah was surprised and delighted that she wasn’t the only one getting up. As she watched in grateful awe, Sir Didymus pushed himself up to a sitting position and examined his leg, now healed.

“I say, My Lady, ‘tis a wonder,” he murmured as he reached for Hoggle, and using his friend’s hand, he pulled himself up to test his weight on the newly healed limb.

“What about where that troll kicked ya’ in the gut?” muttered Hoggle, shock warring with hope in his eyes.

Didymus pulled up his shirt and pressed his fingertips to the flesh there, no longer bloated and rigid.

“It must not have been as serious as we thought,” Sarah murmured.

“Indeed, My Lady,” agreed Sir Didymus.

Hoggle was silent, not certain he agreed or disagreed. Just then Breon, Athienne’s apprentice healer arrived.

“Sorry,” murmured the tall, blond Fae. “Ruptured spleen—couldn’t get away before now. What do we have here?” he asked as his eyes sought his patient.

“Here,” Sarah said indicating Sir Didymus. “I did a little healing, but I’d like you to take a look just to be sure,” she said, still worried.

Breon passed his hands over Didymus and pronounced him fit as a fiddle. Sarah quirked one of her new Fae eyebrows at the Above euphemism.

“Sorry,” he grinned. I went to med school Above back in the 1960’s. Some of the expressions still slip out now and again, but at least I seem to have gotten ‘groovy’ and ‘what a gas’ out of my lexicon permanently,” he said with a grin.

Sarah nodded and agreed that was definitely a good thing.

“It must have been the pain,” he said to Didymus at last. “Sometimes that makes one think the injuries are far more serious than they really are. Nevertheless, good job, Highness,” he grinned that infectious smile at Sarah. “Since I’m here, how about you, little fellow?” he asked as he looked over Hoggle’s tired frame.

Hoggle bristled at being referred to as a “little fellow” but grudgingly submitted to an examination after Sarah turned pleading eyes on him.

Breon pronounced him in need of a good meal and some serious sleep, but otherwise fine. After Breon left, Sarah called for Meep and had him bring a laden lunch tray to the conservatory. As they ate Sarah found she had more questions.

“Who is this Raven Mage? Why is he helping the trolls?” she inquired as she ate another handful of grapes. She looked at the healthy spread of food before her and sighed. She’d kill for a bag of Lays Sour Cream and Onion potato chips right now.

“Don’t ya’ know?” Hoggle asked, exchanging a worried glance with Didymus.

“If I knew, do you think I’d ask you?” Sarah grinned.

“My Lady,” began Didymus. “We assumed you’d heard the rumors. Almost everyone in the Underground has heard the story at some point—how the Goblin King killed his father.”

“Yes,” Sarah said slowly. “Jareth told me himself.”

Hoggle nodded. “Did he tell ya’ the old Fae bastard had a son, a legitimate one?”

Sarah shook her head.

“The Raven Mage,” she whispered.

“Yup,” Hoggle confirmed. “And he hates Jareth. The old Fae was a real piece o’ work but all th’ boy had. Jareth left him an orphan. My great great granddaddy, Pap, was there…at the duel…one o’ th’ witnesses—not a second or nothin’. Said it was brutal. Got real rip roarin’ drunk once and broke down—told me n’ me dad exactly what he seen. One o’ the many reasons I’m scared of Jareth.” Hoggle shook his head to clear the memory and looked away. “An’ I ain’t the only one, neither,” Hoggle continued. “I dunno,” he said at last. “I felt kindly sorry for the boy, but I suppose it was the only way to stop…the …ya’ know…he’d kinda gotten a taste fer it, ya see….th’ rapin’,” he said, finishing on a soft whisper as he looked intently at the floor.

And Sarah did see. It had been the only way to stop a brutal rapist who had found he liked forcing himself on helpless human women, especially when the Fae authorities turned a blind eye to his crimes.

“The Raven Mage will never confront King Jareth directly,” Sir Didymus resumed the tale. “In a duel either magical or physical, he would lose. He has been silent for so long, I think most of the Underground believed he had passed into the Summerlands. I suspect, though, he has merely been biding his time.” The little fox sighed heavily.

So, a powerful mage had set himself against Jareth and against the Goblin Kingdom. Just fabulous.

“There’s somethin’ else ya’ needs ta know, Sarah,” Hoggle confided in a low voice. “There’s dissension in the troll ranks, a lot of it, among th’ citizens too. Most o’ the soldiers recognize that Erlinwold’s not real sane. If’n ya’ could get Erlinwar to put Denneth, the youngest son, in charge, they’d gladly follow him home. Denneth was their captain, and they respect the hell outta him. He’s leadin’ the resistance, right now. Most o’ the soldiers won’t go so far as to commit treason, but they’re gettin’ closer, I think. This is wrong, and they knows it. When Erlinwold started orderin’ ‘em to target civilians,…” Hoggle shrugged and let that thought lay quietly in the air.

Sarah filed this piece of information away for future use and made a mental note to share it with Ryvak and Preussner when they were alone. After they finished lunch, Sarah saw Hoggle and Sir Didymus back to Hoggle’s cottage at the edge of the Labyrinth.

“You did a great job guys. I’ll pardon you myself if Jareth…,” she couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence. Her friends just nodded and hugged her goodbye.

“If you need us…,” began Sir Didymus.

“I’ll call,” she said with a smile.

Hoggle harrumphed and toddled off to bed, certain he could sleep for a week.


	58. 58

Chapter 58

 

Since she had to pass through the labyrinth, now was as good of a time as any to seek out the entity Labyrinth. Sarah paused as she reached the center of the hedge maze and called. It appeared, immediately assuming the likeness of the small, Fae girl.

“Sarah Williams,” it stated.

Sarah was unsure if this was a factual assessment of the situation or a greeting. She decided after a moment that it didn’t really matter. She had bigger fish to fry.

“Jareth is dying,” she said in reply.

“We know.”

“Is that it?” Sarah asked in exasperation.

Labyrinth regarded her with wide, innocent eyes that seemed both cold and somewhat calculating on deeper inspection.

“Would you prefer we feign ignorance?” Labyrinth inquired at last.

“I would prefer that you’d act as if you care,” Sarah retorted sharply.

“We do care,” Labyrinth replied evenly. “We prefer continuity of leadership; it benefits us.”

A note of cunning creeping into her voice, Sarah asked smoothly, “So, will you help then?”

“Perhaps. What do you seek?”

“An antidote for the black dragon’s blood poison,” Sarah blurted out without hesitation.

“There is no antidote. Black dragons went extinct nearly two thousand years ago. The Goblin King killed the last of them. They were vicious, evil creatures that slaughtered for sport. We do not understand such wasteful motivation. It is now impossible to create an antidote to their blood, as no blood exists to test. Those who have hoarded a small supply of the blood will never let it be known.”

The Labyrinth turned away and began to walk.

“ _I_ think _I_ like this form,” it mused as it picked up a pebble and fingered it gently before tossing it into the air and catching it again, a look of wonder on the Fae girl’s face.

“Wait,” Sarah commanded, realizing how literal the Labyrinth could be in its interpretations and answers. “If there isn’t an antidote, is there a spell, an incantation, anything else that could save Jareth’s life?” she rushed on breathlessly.

Labyrinth closed its eyes for a moment as if in deep thought.

“We know of only one thing,” it said at last, “but it will do you no good.”

“What?” Sarah demanded. “What is it? Whatever it is, I’ll find it.”

“You cannot find it, Sarah Williams. It does not exist. The only thing that will save the Goblin King is magical healing from a Medice or Medica. The last Medica in the Underground passed into the Summerlands fourteen hundred eleven of your years ago.”

“What is a Medice?” Sarah asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. Wait, not completely unfamiliar. She had seen it before but not heard it spoken. It was on the treatise in Jareth’s office.

“It is ancient Latin for a healer of the highest order. When the last Medica passed into the Summerlands, she did so believing that her granddaughter would succeed her as a Medica. The girl showed great potential but never quite reached that level.”

“Who is she?” Sarah demanded. “Maybe if she tried again…”

“She has tried many, many times. It is simply beyond her.”

“Who is she?” Sarah insisted. “She can try again.”

“You know her as Athienne,” Labyrinth replied.

Sarah gasped, feeling as if she had just been punched in the gut. She sat heavily. Labyrinth sat daintily across from her, seeming to study her.

“You have made progress,” it said at last. “You are becoming the Goblin Queen.”

“I thought I was the Goblin Queen,” Sarah stated flatly.

The Labyrinth studied her intently, and Sarah had the impression that if the entity understood humor, it would have laughed.

“Not yet,” it replied in that same cool monotone devoid of inflection. “You will have our support only when you win this war.”

“Wait a minute,” Sarah cried. “You’re not willing to fight? I thought that was part of the pact you had with the Goblin Monarchy. Are you reneging?”

“You are not yet the Goblin Queen and cannot command us to war. We will protect you, as we gave our word to the Goblin King. We will protect ourselves.”

So, pure cold logic then. Sarah could work with that.

“The Goblin King yet lives,” Sarah stated harshly. “Don’t you have a mutual protection pact with him? Is your word so worthless then that you will not honor it? Even as we speak the goblin army mobilizes to protect you and this kingdom.”

The Labyrinth pulsed and seemed to consider her words. Time to drive the point home.

“You may not realize,” Sarah continued, “but the troll army marches from the east with two magical catapults to smash you and steal your magic.”

“They cannot,” scoffed the Labyrinth.

At least Sarah thought it was said with derision.

“They have the assistance of a powerful mage. Do you really think they would come all this way and go to this much effort if they were not reasonably certain that your magic could be taken from you?”

The logic made sense. And just as importantly, Sarah had not spoken a lie. Sarah did not truly believe Erlinwold was capable of such rational thought. The Raven Mage might be able to do it, but Sarah suspected his motivation was sheer revenge, to destroy Jareth and everything that mattered to him. Still, the logic held, and the Labyrinth hesitated.

“You are indeed learning Sarah Williams. You have given us reason to fight. We will defend ourselves and the Goblin Kingdom. Send your general to coordinate with us,” Labyrinth instructed before fading into the darkening shadows as sunset neared.

Sarah wasted no time in returning to the castle. She had to speak with Preussner and Ryvak right away. She also needed to see Athienne.


	59. 59

Chapter 59

The meeting with Preussner and Ryvak had gone well.

The meeting with Athienne not so much.

She confirmed what the Labyrinth had told Sarah. She was not a Medica and couldn’t perform the level of magic needed to save Jareth’s life. Sarah’s frustration bubbled over.

“What exactly is a Medica? Why is this type of healer better than a whole team of healers?” Sarah asked, remembering the group of healers who had joined hands and put Jareth into the healing coma.

Athienne sighed. “All magic has limitations. A Medica has fewer magical limitations than other healers. A Medice or Medica, if female, can channel other magical energy from the air, the land, even from another magic user through his or her own body. A healer has a finite amount of magic he or she can process at any given time. If the healer goes beyond his or her abilities, it is a death sentence. A Medice or Medica has no such restrictions; he or she can channel magical energy almost without limit, which is what Jareth needs—a huge burst of magical healing energy that will eradicate all of the poison at once instead of the weaker magical healing energy that can slowly repair the damage. That is how we are currently keeping him alive, but it is a losing battle. Black dragon’s blood is a magical substance. It also pulls magical energy from around it, even from its host. Eventually, it will cause more damage than a healer can repair, and the victim will die. It must be eradicated all at once, before it can draw enough magical energy to sustain itself. None of us has the power to do that, and the constant flow of casualties keeps us drained and weakened, meaning we can give less and less every day to sustaining Jareth’s life force.”

Sarah sat heavily. Her last hope shattered.

“Sarah, you must decide soon whether to simply let Jareth pass peacefully into the Summerlands or awaken him and let him say goodbye. I warn you, if we do awaken him, he will be in agony the last hours of his life.”

She squeezed Sarah’s hand gently as she rose to leave, having no words of comfort or solace to offer. Sarah made two full circuits of the library looking for the medical treatise Jareth had been reading. It was nowhere to be found. Why did he have it? He couldn’t foresee his own future, but had some other magic warned him that he would need that level of healing?

Perhaps someone had seen the treatise lying about and taken it back to Jareth’s study.

She was in the process of searching his desk when she found the package with her name on it. She fingered it hesitantly. Well, it did have her name on it, after all. She cut the baling twine and tore off the plain, brown wrapping paper. Inside was a white cardboard box that held a slim, black velvet case. Inside the lid of the white cardboard was written ‘Happy Birthday, Sarah’ and within the black case on a velvet lining was a beautiful bracelet of Ceylon sapphires and diamonds that perfectly matched the owl necklace.

She had forgotten her own birthday.

Jareth had not.

As tears threatened to fall through her damp lashes, she hastily re-wrapped the bracelet as best she could and put it back in the drawer. She would wear it when Jareth put it on her wrist and not before.

Sarah gave into frustration and self pity then and sat numbly until nightfall when she strode into the infirmary and ordered Jareth to be transferred back to their bedroom since they could do nothing for him there, anyway.

She read to him again that night and wondered how aware he was of his surroundings. She had spent a part of every evening with him since the coma had been induced, hoping he was aware of her presence. During the day she was the formidable Goblin Queen. At night, she cried, alone and afraid.

Jareth had inadvertently taught her another lesson: be careful what you wish for. Sarah recalled a time when she had fervently wished for her own bedroom. She had had this bedroom alone to herself for the past days now, and she hated it. She missed the warmth of his embrace, his sleepy murmurs as she poured out her worries, his tender lovemaking.

He had given her a place when no one else wanted her, protection from an insane troll, the gift of magic, a purpose as the champion of abandoned children, and ultimately his love.

Guilt twisted through her guts as she was unable to come up with a single thing she had ever given to him. She slept poorly that night, even with Jareth’s warm, sleeping body next to her. She felt anxious, on edge, and she knew it was her magic. Danger was near.

The battle began in earnest the following afternoon.

Preussner marshaled the goblin forces like Alexander the Great; he maximized every resource, the gnomes grew deadly poisonous plants whose spores sent waves of troll soldiers into anaphylactic shock, the rock callers used stones to flatten the supply wagons—destroying weapons, food and medical supplies, leaving the trolls cut off from their supply lines, the Labyrinth created illusions causing the trolls to mistake one another for the enemy-- as they attacked each other in droves the concept of friendly fire took on a whole new meaning. The goblin army picked off stragglers and cut off retreat with a three pronged flanking maneuver that would have made the small, French general proud.

By late evening, the shelling began in earnest as the catapults began sending a ceaseless barrage toward the city. The Elite Goblin troops had been dispatched to slow their progress; hence the trolls were not able to get close enough for their primary weapon to be fully effective. Still, a catapult can cause extensive damage.

Preussner dispatched Sarah to deal with the catapult. From the tower, she used a stolen pair of military grade binoculars with night scope technology to track the boulders the trolls used to load their catapults. Sarah found that with a judicious use of magic and applied mathematics that a little magical push provided soon after launch caused the projectiles to deviate substantially over the course of their trajectory, missing their intended targets entirely.

By the third day, in spite of extensive casualties far, far heavier than Sarah would have liked, the goblin army had taken possession of the catapults. Sarah now created energy balls and loaded them into the catapults, their payloads now far deadlier than boulders, as the goblins turned their enemy’s weapon on its creators.

Creating so many energy balls left her drained and tired, but she persevered. A lull in the attack gave her a brief opportunity to rest, eat and speak with Ryvak.

“Any sightings of the Raven Mage?” she asked.

“None, my Queen. He would be destroyed instantly if he were to transport to the Goblin Kingdom.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah demanded.

“The entire kingdom is warded against him. It is a measure the King put in place more than a millennia ago, and he strengthens them regularly. With no mage of our own, it may be all that saves us now.” He hesitated then. “I do not know…”

“What is it, Ryvak?”

“The wards may be tied to the Goblin King’s life force. If he does not survive…”

Sarah got the gist of it immediately. If Jareth died, they could be facing the full wrath of an angry mage. Or, he could be satisfied with Jareth’s death; there was just no way to be certain.

“Does Preussner know this?”

“I’m not sure,” Ryvak replied.

“Tell him,” Sarah demanded. “Tell him now. We need a decisive victory as soon as possible in order to protect the civilians. The troll army must surrender soon. If the mage comes, he will do so without the support of the troll army. I will contact Adin about getting us a mage of our own,” Sarah said as she pulled a compact out of the back pocket of her jeans in order to use the mirror.

“Moreth, Garn,” he called. “Protect the Queen,” he ordered as he vanished.

Sarah lost track of time after that. She ate and slept on the ground whenever she could, conjured magic energy balls as quickly as possible, and relieved herself in a hastily dug latrine when necessary.


	60. 60

Chapter 60

 

On the fifth day the cheers of the goblin army roused Sarah from her stupor.

Preussner had called for an all out assault on the troll army. The trolls had taken heavy casualties. Erlinwold had fled, abandoning his men to whatever fate awaited them. With over 85% of the remaining troll army dead or maimed, their general had raised a white flag.

Knowing they were utterly defeated, he had asked for no terms save for medical assistance for his remaining troops and some food. Erlinwar had been summoned to negotiate the peace treaty.

Sarah almost felt sorry for him. _Almost._ Jareth’s spies had informed her that he had been receiving regular reports stating that the troll army was unstoppable and claiming victory after victory. To learn that his army was decimated, his treasury broke, and his son fled—a coward before the eyes of his own people…well, it was a much older and more pathetic troll monarch who appeared at the Goblin Castle the following morning to formally present the documents suing for peace.

Sarah had slept as much as she could in preparation for the treaty negotiations, but she was awakened just before dawn by Marna, who was, for once, nowhere near cheerful.

“Ryvak and Moreth summons you to the throne room. Dress quickly My Queen. They tells me secrecy is imperative,” she whispered conspiratorially.

Sarah dragged herself out of bed and dressed as quickly as possible. She was gonna need a new Goblin Queen costume soon, she realized. Marna washed and pressed it daily, but it wasn’t going to last forever. Shrugging, Sarah dressed quickly, settled the diadem on her forehead and headed for the throne room.

Ryvak and Moreth had been missing since the celebrations had begun early yesterday evening. Only Sarah knew where they had gone. She prayed that they had been successful.

As she entered the throne room, she saw that they had been busy, industrious goblins indeed and made a mental note that whatever Jareth was paying them, they needed a raise.

She ascended the throne and sat quickly, spreading her cape.

Kneeling at the foot of the throne, bruised and bloody but very much alive was Erlinwold.

“Nicely done,” Sarah complimented her goblins.

Moreth grinned. Ryvak inclined his head to his Queen.

Erlinwold, clearly not understanding his peril, sneered at Sarah. She felt dirty wherever his eyes lingered.

“You have no power over me, whore,” he said finally, meeting her eyes at last, a confident smirk gracing his lecherous face.

Sarah was very certain that she was looking at the closest approximation of sheer evil she would ever see.

“And why is that?” Sarah inquired softly, willing to play this out just a little longer.

An idea niggled in the back of her brain as her conscience and her sense of justice escalated their conflict into an all out war.

He sneered at her as if she were utterly stupid.

“The Underground Accords of 857, you stupid bitch. All of the monarchs of the thirteen kingdoms are bound by them. I am the son of a monarch, heir to the throne of the great Troll Empire. As such, you must accord me first rate food, medical treatment and safe passage back to my father.”

“I see,” said Sarah at last. “And how, precisely, does one become bound by these Accords?” she asked innocently.

He snorted. “It was part of the oath ya took, signed in blood, when Jareth made ya’ the Goblin Slut.”

Sarah nodded; she had suspected as much.

“There’s just one problem with that, you see,” she said as she waved her hand, using a small amount of magic to plaster duct tape over his mouth.

Bless the castle goblins. They loved the stuff, ever since they had discovered it when they had been dispatched to bring her father and stepmother to the Underground; it was all over the castle for ease of use.

“Your father,” she continued, “saw to it that my marriage to Jareth was challenged. While the council figures out my status, I’m the Goblin Queen without benefit of a coronation or signing ceremony.”

Erlinwold’s eyes widened a bit as the full implication of that statement sank home.

“In addition to that,” Sarah continued conversationally, “the one monarch here who was bound by the Accords…who would have interceded to save you, …well, you saw to it that he was poisoned in a cowardly ambush. He now lies in a coma near death.”

Sarah tapped her gloved fingertips together lightly as the mere thought of Jareth tipped the scales hard in the direction of justice. Her decision was made. She watched dispassionately as Erlinwold tried to struggle, at last fully realizing his peril.

“Ryvak,” she commanded.

“My Queen,” he answered, bowing slightly. He had a feeling this was going to be good.

“Take the prisoner to the oubliette on the far western side of the labyrinth. I don’t want anyone to be able to hear his screams. Moreth,” she continued. I want you to transport Tannith and any other of his victims to that oubliette. Tannith can tell you who they are. He is to remain bound and helpless. Give them whatever…implements…they may request,” Sarah said as she looked at both of her soldiers. “Give them a few hours. Toss whatever’s left of him somewhere for the animals to devour,” she finished coldly as she recalled Jareth’s vision.

Jareth had been so very right, as he had been about so many things, she mused to herself as she exited the throne room to Erlinwold’s whimpering sobs. They were very alike.

She could be cruel, when she needed to be.


	61. 61

Chapter 61

 

“Tieran,” she called into her vanity mirror.

When he answered, she was unsurprised that he was in the parlor of Brigid’s house.

“Highness,” he said as he bowed respectfully. “Still no word from the council,” he answered one of her unasked questions. She nodded, having expected as much.

“I’m afraid I need your legal advice again. Can you be here at,” she looked at the clock, “9:30?”

“Of course. May I ask what area of the law you need help with?” he inquired.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the troll forces surrendered,” she said in preamble.

When he nodded, she continued, “I need advice on how to draft a binding peace treaty. We’ll be meeting with General Preussner, Captain Ryvak, the Gnome King and the Summer King when you arrive. The Labyrinth may or may not be there. It has been invited. The meeting with Erlinwar and his advisors is set to begin at noon.”

“I’ll do a bit of research in the interim,” he replied quickly, and the connection terminated.

Sarah crossed the room to where Jareth lay, growing paler by the day. The castle goblins would be arriving soon to sit with him. Layla barely left his side now.

Sarah knew she didn’t have much time left.

She would have to decide soon whether to awaken him or not. She stalled, selfishly, wanting to prolong his life as much as possible. If she did awaken him, she wanted to at least be able to tell him that his kingdom had been saved and that an enforceable peace treaty had been signed.

She kissed him gently on his cool, pale lips, as she did so often lately, wiped the tears that gathered in her lashes, and headed down to eat a quick breakfast.

Sarah was surprised the negotiations with her own team became so heated. The sticking point seemed to be the necessity of war reparations. Ryvak, the Gnome King and Tieran were adamant that steep monetary reparations were owed.

Unknown to Sarah until that morning, Tieran’s baby brother had perished in one of the troll raids upon civilians in the northern border town of Feald.

She sympathized with him.

However, the reparations they were demanding would literally bankrupt the troll treasury and place a heavy onus on each and every troll citizen; most of whom, Sarah knew from information provided by Jareth’s spies, had opposed the war. Many had gone so far as to join Denneth’s rebellion, which was why the Troll King had been so far away and so uninformed. He had been putting down near constant internal rebellions.

In the end, Sarah got her way. After she and Preussner explained how backbreaking war reparations following World War I had set the stage for World War II, and the Summer King chimed in with several similar examples from the Underground, the others conceded.

Reparations would be limited to recouping the monies necessary to repair any and all structural damage and to compensate the families of the wounded and killed goblin citizens.

They continued to draft their terms as the morning passed, including terms for prisoner exchange, a non-aggression pact, and numerous other relevant points until Sarah came to her last demand.

She explained what she wanted.

Tieran dropped his pen.

“You won’t win that point, my Queen,” Tieran insisted.

“To tell another monarch how to govern his kingdom,” the Gnome King sputtered, “tis unheard of.”

Sarah shrugged. “Include it,” she insisted.


	62. 62

Chapter 62

 

At precisely noon, a cadre of trolls bearing a white flag rode for the main entrance of the goblin castle. They were shown into the library which had been laid out with several long tables and chairs specifically for negotiations.

Erlinwar wasted no time, and he nodded to one of his advisors to present his demands. Several copies were produced, and Sarah read hers with interest. She was surprised they were fairly reasonable. The offer for war reparations was far more generous than what they were asking for, decent treatment for the prisoners of war, a non-retaliation clause…

Sarah crumpled it up and tossed it into the fireplace.

She nodded to Tieran to provide the troll delegates with copies of their demands. Erlinwar was surprised at the generous terms and was more than happy to agree until he read the final one.

“It will not happen!” he thundered as he rose to storm out of the negotiation.

“Sit down,” Sarah hissed as the library doors slammed shut, and she sealed them with magic.

He sat, startled at her show of magical power, as a magical fist clamped tightly around his airway, the stricture making it difficult to breathe.

“We have a saying Above. There is no man more dangerous than the man who has nothing left to lose. Today,” Sarah said icily, “I am that man. Because of you. You manipulated my mother, tried to make me a brood mare for your magical lineage, setting all of these events into motion. Because of you who put your insane, deviate son in charge of an army after you covered up his crimes for years. Because of you, the Goblin King lies near death. All of these events trace ultimately back to you.”

Sarah was so angry her hands were shaking now.

“You’ve proven yourself unfit to be King.”

She began to pace now, trying to work off some of the agitation.

“You will abdicate, naming your son Denneth as your successor. Think about it carefully,” Sarah threatened softly. “You do have precious things left you can lose, a son, two daughters, three grandchildren among other things. Oh no,” Sarah replied to his widened eyes, “I’m not threatening them, not directly anyway. But, should you fail to abdicate, I will do all in my power to exacerbate the rebellions in the Troll Kingdom to full out civil war. The Goblin Kingdom will provide the rebels with food, medical supplies, money, weapons, and whatever else they may need. I will see your kingdom crumble around you and burn,” Sarah hissed coldly.

“And we both know that after this war you have neither the money in your treasury nor the soldiers to prevent the Troll Kingdom from imploding.”

Sarah then signed her name hastily to the bottom of the contract and pushed it and a pen across the table to the Troll King, who found himself once again able to breathe normally.

He looked mutinous and crossed his arms, until his chief advisor pushed the contract directly in front of him, and his general pressed the pen insistently against his hand. Their gazes were hard and unforgiving, and he belatedly realized that both men had lost family members in this war.

He realized at that moment that the dissension was so great that he hadn’t a single hope of healing his kingdom. Denneth, who had been against this entire course of action from the beginning, might stand a chance.

With a tired sigh, his age showing, he signed the armistice agreement, thus ending the war. As soon as he did, a second document was pushed forward for his signature: the announcement of abdication. He hesitated briefly and then signed that one as well. Magical copies were made for all parties, and Tieran took the originals and vanished, going straight to the High Fae Court to file them.

Sarah ordered the troll delegation to be escorted out of the castle and hastily ran up to her bedroom. She shoo’d the goblins out wanting to spend a few moments alone with Jareth while he wasn’t in pain.

“Meep,” she said, silently noting that he was the last to leave. “Please send Athienne and the healers in an hour. I think Jareth will want to spend his last few hours awake,” she whispered, trying not to choke around the lump in her throat.

She sat down next to him then, leaning against the headboard as she stroked her fingers through his hair, exhaustion and tears pulling at her.


	63. 63

Chapter 63

 

She saw it then, the bright blue white ball of light. It passed through the closed window and proceeded to the side of the bed where it hung expectantly.

“Labyrinth,” Sarah acknowledged.

“Goblin Queen,” Labyrinth acknowledged in return.

Sarah should have been pleased. She couldn’t have cared less.

“What brings you to the castle?” she asked.

She had never known the entity to visit, and it had ignored the invitations to the treaty discussions.

“We come to pay our respects to the Goblin King.”

Suddenly a question she had failed to ask popped into her mind.

“Athienne said a sudden burst of magic is necessary to heal Jareth. Do you have the magic? Could _you_ heal him?” she blurted as a sudden last hope warred with despair.

The Labyrinth pulsed as if in deep thought.

“Perhaps.”

“Then do it,” she demanded.

“Why?” Labyrinth inquired.

“What do you mean, _why_?” Sarah exclaimed, genuinely confused by this seeming callousness.

“Why do you want to save him?” Labyrinth clarified. “What is he to you, Sarah Williams?”

“Back to that, are we?” Sarah muttered.

Well, logic had worked before with the childish magical entity, she would try it again.

“He is the Goblin King, the one you know and like, who provides continuity of leadership. He manages the kingdom well, treats his subjects fairly…” she trailed off as Labyrinth began moving back toward the window. “ **Wait** ,” Sarah cried out. “What do you want me to say? I don’t understand.”

Labyrinth paused. “Why do **you** want him saved?” Labyrinth repeated with emphasis.

Sarah was silent, lips moving, repeating the Labyrinth’s response over and over but the right words wouldn’t come. She didn’t know what they were. Labyrinth pulsed, seemingly impatient, and began to move back toward the window, picking up speed.

“I love him,” Sarah blurted, answering the question, realizing that she spoke the truth as the words left her lips. “ _I love him_ ,” she repeated softly but firmly.

It was as much of a surprise to her as anyone, she guessed.

“Alright. I admitted it. Will you save him now?” she asked, hope creeping up within her, making her voice thick and breathy.

“No,” Labyrinth replied. “We do not do what you can do,” it replied as it passed through the window and vanished.


	64. 64

Chapter 64

 

Sarah screamed then, rage and terror boiling over in a climactic display of magic that did nothing to Labyrinth but completely blew out the bedroom window.

She broke down in sobs then, hating the Labyrinth. Just because flesh and blood beings had healing power, Labyrinth felt it was duplicating magic, even though no other creature had the level of magic necessary to save Jareth. Vain, petty, magical entity…

She smiled then through her tears, remembering when she had teased Jareth, calling him vain and petty. He was certainly vain about his looks. He changed clothes more than any other person she had ever known, male or female. And his hair. She laughed harder now as she remembered his glare when she had suggested his hair was the result of hair spray and lots of other product.

She caressed his face again, so beautiful. It occurred to her then that she could preserve his vanity, send him into death unblemished and beautiful. She would take the scars, the bruises, leaving him perfect and whole. She had enough healing magic for that. With a bit of help from her magic, she turned him then until his back was exposed, face turned to the side so he could breathe.

She opened the cap on her lotion and began to rub it into the marked and scarred skin, sinking into a healing trance as Athienne had taught her. She pictured his skin, milky moon pearl white without the welts and raised, puckered weals. She felt it begin to smooth under her fingertips and pressed forth with more magic, sinking deeper into trance.

As she pictured him whole and healthy, other images kept intruding, his teasing smile when he captured her left bower in euchre, the deep longing in his eyes when he kissed her, his chest rising and falling in sleep as she clung to him feeling warm and safe…a thousand other images came then, faster and faster as the love welled up inside her, drowning her, pouring out of her like the rainbow waterfall he had shown her once.

The healing trance faded completely as Sarah lost control of her magic, an outpouring of both healing magic and love in unlimited quantities.

She was laughing and crying now as understanding came at last. Love. She had fought it for so long. Love was pain—her mother walking out and leaving her crying child behind. Love was abandonment—her grandmother dying and leaving Sarah so alone. Love was weakness—her father and stepmother too busy to give her even a small portion of the understanding and affection they gave Toby, ready to discard her when she became a difficult teenager. But love could be so much more.

So many people had given her part of the answer all along.

Jareth had explained that her mother could have been a great healer but ultimately lacked that ability because she cared for no one but herself. Athienne had explained what a Medica did but now how. The medical treatise Jareth had been reading—not because he had foreseen the need for a Medica but because he suspected somehow that she was one. She had healed Didymus while thinking about how much she loved her dear little friend. Labyrinth had told her not that ‘ _you_ ’ as in people could heal Jareth but ‘ _you_ ’ Sarah could heal Jareth, but only after she admitted that she loved him.

A Medica must draw magical energy from a place of love!

She opened herself then, becoming a conduit for magic as she pulled every ounce of magic she could from the air, the castle, and the labyrinth into her own body, wrapped it in her love and pushed it in one explosive mass into Jareth.

She felt the black dragon’s blood, twisting, writhing, clawing, and fighting trying to save itself.

Sarah laughed as it evaporated into golden white light, the room exploding with sound and fury. The white light faded, and Sarah sank into darkness.


	65. 65

Chapter 65

 

Athienne and the other healers stood in the doorway, shielding their eyes from the blinding white light. It took a few moments for them to orient once more and for vision to return. As it did, they rushed en masse into the room trying to assess both Jareth and Sarah. After several scans, they had reached a unanimous consensus. Jareth was healed, and Sarah was merely unconscious. Both would likely awaken soon. As a precaution, Athienne ordered them both transported to the infirmary.

Sarah came awake slowly. She realized where she was instantly, having spent too many hours cleaning blood and vomit in the makeshift infirmary to not recognize it. She tried to rise but felt hard pressure immediately on her shoulder.

“Hoggle!” she cried out as she saw the face of her friend.

He grinned. “How ya’ feelin’, Missy?” he asked.

“Fine,” she replied. “How’s Jareth?” she asked with some trepidation in her voice.

“See fer yourself,” he said as he moved out of her line of sight.

Jareth was in the next bed over, conscious and sitting up, completely covered in the castle’s special goblins.

“If you don’t get off of me right now, I’ll bog the lot of you,” he announced loudly.

Rather than scatter, they laughed harder and hugged tighter. Sarah laughed uncontrollably as he went down, smothered in the joyous assault. They heard her then, and swarmed her bed intent on treating her to the same joyous battery Jareth had sustained a moment earlier.

A menacing growl from three pounds of tiny, black Chihuahua lying on Sarah’s knee stopped the lot of them dead in their tracks. They backed away, knocking over trays and stumbling into tables causing chaos as the small black puppy on Sarah’s bed preened and asserted her authority, such as it was. Sarah laughed at the antics around her.

“You,” she pinned Layla with a hard stare as she tried to keep a straight face, “are becoming entirely too bossy. And, you snore, by the way.”

Layla looked deeply offended before going back to sleep. It would have likely gone on indefinitely but for Athienne.

“Shoo,” she called out, waving her hands, and at last the goblins dispersed, grumbling a bit as they exited the room. Having been examined and pronounced healthy, both Sarah and Jareth were discharged from the infirmary and sent back to their bedroom on enforced bed rest.

Jareth was anxious to know about the state of the Goblin Kingdom and Sarah filled him in as best she could, describing how, with Adin’s help, she had used the Faelium bond to find him, the fear and doubt she had felt, finally figuring out the final lesson, her decision to try to become the Goblin Queen rather than abandon the goblins, her cruelty and complicity in a murder, persuading her former teacher to become a general, her time as a soldier working on the catapults, the involvement of the Raven Mage, her complicity in another murder and using it to make Jareth’s vision come true, forcing the Troll King to abdicate, and finally figuring out how to be a Medica.

By turns Jareth laughed, cursed, and gasped in surprise as the full gamut of emotions played across his countenance.

When she finished, Jareth hugged her and whispered, “I knew you could do it, Goblin Queen.”

Yes, he had. He was the only one who insisted from the beginning that she was the Goblin Queen that she could do this. She was more than a little awed by his belief in her. She pressed her cheek into the warm flesh of his chest, glad that she no longer felt the cold, creeping sickness that was draining his life.

“I love you,” she whispered at last. She felt him smile into the hair behind her temple.

“I know.”

“Because I healed you?”

“No, I knew long before then.”

“How could you possibly have known? Even I didn’t know,” she gave voice to her annoyance then.

“Yes, you did. I felt it. I had begun exploring the Faelium bond. Just as you used it as a pathway, tracing your emotions and thoughts to mine, I had discovered several weeks before that I could do the same. I, however, made the crucial mistake of telling you this—that you were coming to love me. It was something you were unprepared to hear at the time.”

Sarah recalled her unreasonable reaction and the subsequent discovery of exactly what the Goblin King’s job description was.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “but you have to admit it is kinda creepy—the fact that we can feel each other’s emotions, eavesdrop on thoughts. By the way,” she said, thoughts changing direction abruptly, “when did you realize I was a Medica?”

“I didn’t. I began to suspect when you played matchmaker for Tieran and Brigid. You said your magic told you to do it.”

Sarah nodded as she waited for him to continue.

“That is one of the abilities of a Medica’s magic, to sense not just physical pain and injury but mental as well. Brigid has been alone and hurting for a very long time; in some ways the pain was just as immediate to her as it ever was, although she concealed it well. Your intervention healed her. I began looking at the old medical treatises, looking to see if you had the other traits described, but before I could reach any sort of conclusion, war was upon us.”

He sighed then. “Did you complete the research on your own? Surely you found the most definitive treatise I could find on my desk.”

“Yes, we did, but I set it aside without reading it. When I went back to look for it, it was gone,” Sarah replied forlornly.

“So you performed a healing of that magnitude with little more than blind instinct?” he asked incredulously.

At her nod, his temper exploded.

“Sarah, what were you thinking? You could have been badly hurt, perhaps permanently damaged, even killed…using that much raw magic with no real understanding…” He trailed off as Sarah stroked her hand gently along his face.

“I was thinking I had to save you, that I need you, and I love you” she said calmly, as she waited to see if this would work.

The Goblin King paused, looking at her with a small, self-deprecating smile.

“You’re trying to manipulate me,” he accused. “And Bogdammit all, I’m going to let you,” he murmured as he pulled her more tightly into his embrace, “on one condition. You must swear to me, a binding Fae oath, that you will not use your Medica magic again until you learn how to use it safely. Agreed?”

Sarah agreed, somewhat amused that she had just taken her first oath as a Fae. After several long minutes, he spoke again.

“I believe I have figured out a way to break the Faelium bond, if you still wish to do so,” he offered at last.

“How?” Sarah demanded, strangely finding that she was far less excited at the prospect, despite the creepiness factor, than she ever thought she’d be.

“I’d rather not say,” he admitted heavily. “Do you still want to break it?”

“I really don’t know. I think I’d like to talk to Adin and Kestian a bit more. I think I wanna know more about what I’d be giving up. They seem really happy. There must be a work around for creepy if they’re that happy. I guess I just need to know that some thoughts are private, you know? I’m not trying to deceive you or anything. What about you? Do you want to break it?”

“No,” stark and clear.

She felt his arms tighten around her. She felt inordinately pleased that he wanted this, wanted her without any equivocation.

“Jareth,” she began hesitantly, “what are we going to do about the Raven Mage?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “I’ll strengthen the wards, and I’ll teach you how to as well. I think for now we must focus on healing the Goblin Kingdom. The damage is extensive, and there is much here that needs healing.”

He hadn’t made up his mind completely. If he had, he wouldn’t be able to give such an evasive answer. But, he was fairly certain that eventually he was going to have to hunt down the duplicitous Fae and kill him if only to be certain that his kingdom and Sarah remained safe.

At the mention of healing, an image of David flashed into her mind followed quickly by images of many of the victims of this war. Flesh could be healed with magic, but the trauma in their minds… Sarah wasn’t certain even a Medica could help them.

“Do you think…,” she began cautiously, “well…Preussner worked out really well. Perhaps we could enlist his help and…poach…a few psychologists from Above, maybe even a special education teacher for the castle goblins? Brigid said that you encourage Fae to visit the Above and bring back new ideas and culture; perhaps bringing back a few people wouldn’t be too much of a stretch.”

“I have always been hesitant in dealing with humans outside of my role as Goblin King, taking the wished away children,” and Sarah knew he was thinking of Niccola and her rejection, “but if it were done delicately, yes, I think it could work. As you are very familiar with the Above, this could be an excellent occupation for the Goblin Queen,” Jareth smirked.

Sarah snorted. “Mmmmhmmm…What part of me suggests delicate to you?”

He laughed then, a long, loud laugh of contentment and joy that was only silenced when he kissed her.

Sarah felt the rising ardor of the Goblin King and moved to nip it in the bud, giving him a firm shove in the solar plexus.

“Sarah,” he murmured confusion fogging the lust in his eyes.

“No,” she said firmly. “You’re on bed rest, remember? You’ve been poisoned, and you just came out of a coma.”

“Exactly,” he whispered, “nearly two weeks of bed rest already.”

“No,” she insisted stubbornly. “You need to rest, and these…escapades,” she supplied finally, “always end up being rather energetic.”

“But you’re fine, aren’t you, Precious?” he whispered into her ear as his tongue teased the whorl before nipping the lobe.

“Mmmm…yes,” Sarah stuttered.

“So, you’re going to do all the work,” he whispered. “I’m going to teach you how to ride me, Precious.”

As he proceeded to whisper instructions, Sarah blushed hotly, her breath coming in gasps. A few moments later, somewhat unsure of how it happened, Sarah found herself naked and astride a very erect Goblin King, as he gripped her hips, showing her, as promised, exactly how to ride him.


	66. 66

Chapter 66

 

Sarah awoke sometime later in a tangle of messy sheets half lying on the prone form of her husband, who was busy stroking her hair. She looked into his eyes, an “I love you” on her lips when a sharp rap at the door came, followed immediately by the door opening and Athienne bustling in carrying a breakfast tray.

“I thought I’d check on you myself….” She stopped dead in her tracks. At least she didn’t drop the tray.

Sarah scrambled to find enough sheet to cover herself but Jareth only laughed, as Athienne’s eyes shot daggers at him.

“I ordered bed rest,” she glared accusingly at the Fae king.

He laughed harder. “What did you think was going to happen, Athienne? You put my wife in the same bed…and nothing else to do…” he smirked; in fact he couldn’t seem to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off of his face.

“You needed to rest,” she insisted.

“And so I did. I let Sarah do all the work,” he replied innocently.

Sarah groaned and buried her face in the pillow. She was never going to be able to look the little Elven healer in the face again.

Athienne opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. In the face of Jareth’s laughter what was there to say?

“Very well. I release you then to light activities in and around the castle, but don’t overdo it.”

“Are you sure I’m well enough for that?” Jareth grinned mischievously. “I’m perfectly willing to go on an extended bed rest with Sarah.”

Sarah groaned again and wished she could disappear in a shower of glitter.

Athienne glared at him and slammed the door behind her.

Jareth roared with laughter.

After he and Sarah had dressed, he went immediately to confer with Preussner and Ryvak, wanting to know the status of the prisoner exchange, the casualty reports, and the status of the rebuilding.

Sarah was on her way to see Hoggle and Didymus when she was waylaid by a messenger bearing the emblem of the High Fae Council. As he stopped his horse, Wego rushed forward to take the reins as the Elven rider approached Sarah and bowed.

“You are summoned, My Lady,” he said as he handed a scroll to her.

Sarah opened it and read, her magic instantly converting the language to English.

“Thank you,” she replied, as she turned back toward the castle.

The young elf continued to stand there, and Sarah was becoming increasingly unsure as to whether she had committed a major faux pas. Was she supposed to tip him, or something?

“Was there something else?” she inquired.

“No, no My Lady,” he stammered. “I just wanted to get a good look at the queen who used to be just a human girl.” He smiled shyly then. “Tis said you are a force to be reckoned with. I shall take my leave.” He bowed again and springing lightly to the back of the horse they vanished in a cloud of hoof beats and dust.

Sarah smiled wryly. Well, that was … interesting. She tucked the missive under her arm and went in search of Jareth.

“Whatever could the council want with us?” she asked after he read the missive. “I was under the impression that they would simply issue a judgment and that would be that.”

Jareth looked at her, mystified himself. “That is usually how these things go. I have never seen the parties summoned back to court. 'Tis usually better to issue an edict and give the losing party time to cool off before putting them in the same room with one of the judges who ruled against them, let alone all of the judges.”

He paced for a moment. “Meep,” he called.

When the little goblin arrived expectantly, Jareth instructed him to summon Tieran to the castle. As the little goblin vanished, Sarah arched a brow questioningly.

“Why didn’t you just use a mirror?”

“Because of the war, I bespelled all of the mirrors in the kingdom to connect instantly, time being of the essence and all. I haven’t had the opportunity to remove the spell, and as Brigid and Tieran are betrothed, I can’t imagine that they are being celibate. I didn’t want a repeat performance of this morning with myself in Athienne’s place.”

Sarah nodded her understanding and suppressed a blush as the Goblin King winked at her.

When Tieran arrived, Jareth wasted no time.

“What do you know of this?” he demanded as he held forth the missive.

“Nothing,” Tieran replied, as he held out a similar scroll. “I received an identical summons just prior to your messenger's arrival.”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Sarah murmured.

“Well, we best be off,” Jareth said at last. The summons says we are to be there by 3:00 p.m., and it’s a quarter ‘til now.”


	67. 67

Chapter 67

 

They reappeared in the courthouse square in a shower of glitter. As they waited, Sarah was expecting to see her father and step-mother, perhaps her mother as well as the other solicitors, but the lawn was otherwise empty and remained so. Perhaps they were inside.

They ascended the steps and entered an empty courtroom. It was now precisely 3:00 p.m.

At that moment, the small bailiff entered and called “All rise.”

Sarah, Jareth and Tieran hastily rose to their feet as the High Fae Council filed in and took their seats. Sarah was surprised to see a new addition. In Erlinwar’s place sat a much younger troll, an aura of frankness and competence seemed to surround him.

“Is that Denneth?” she whispered to Jareth.

He nodded.

“Be seated,” intoned the bailiff, and they sat, Jareth leaning back in the chair, stretching his legs and crossing his arms and ankles almost insolently as he stared at the court.

Queen Titania raised a brow at him but said nothing. She called the court to order and got immediately to business. “Jareth, King of the Goblins,” she said coolly. “Take your place with us.”

Jareth rose slowly and took the empty chair at Titania’s side. Sarah slid over so she could confer with Tieran. She looked at him, brows raised. He shook his head slightly, forestalling any questions Sarah may have wanted to ask.

“As our first order of business…” Titania began,“the court will rise.”

Sarah started to stand, but Tieran’s hand pressing down on her forearm stopped her. Sarah stared in wonder as the members of the court rose. She looked at Jareth; he was barely suppressing a smile. He winked at her.

Queen Titania continued then. “The thirteen Kingdoms of the Underground acknowledge the Goblin Queen,” she intoned with reverence. Sarah watched in shock as the monarchs of the High Fae Council bowed to her.

She stood hastily and offered an awkward curtsy.

Titania and several of the other members of the court smiled at her before resuming their seats.

“Now, to the next order of business. After much deliberation, we have decided in an eight to four vote to outlaw all contracts for marriage in the Underground.” Ana had been right when she said that this was coming, that the younger rulers found the practice archaic and absurd.

“However,” Titania continued, “it has never been our practice to make our rulings retroactive. Therefore, all contracts entered into prior to today’s date shall be dealt with on a case by case basis. This brings us to you, Goblin Queen, formerly Sarah Williams of the Above. You have earned the respect and gratitude of this court. We, who are now ashamed to admit that we failed to act when we should have intervened, wish to honor you. In spite of nearly impossible odds, with limited resources and almost no outside help, you managed to rally your people, defeat an invading army of superior size and strength, and save the life of another monarch of this realm. We thank you. Had the Goblin Kingdom fallen, the ramifications would have been catastrophic.”

Sarah knew she was thinking of the wished aways and the abandoned children, the lifeblood of the Underground. She couldn’t imagine Erlinwold giving a rat’s ass about any of them.

“In acknowledgement of our respect for you, for you are truly the Goblin Queen, we afford you a right that has, heretofore, never been offered to another litigant. With regard to the contracts that pertain to you, you may choose, Goblin Queen, which contracts you wish to void and which to enforce.”

All eyes turned to her then.

“With regard to the contract between King Folmar of the Gypsy Clan and the Lady Lindell of the Tuatha de Danaan regarding the marriage of Sarah Williams,” intoned Queen Titania, “what say you Goblin Queen?”

“Void,” said Sarah clearly and succinctly.

Titania nodded to Benthee, and the bailiff wrote something on the sheaf of papers before him.

“With regard to the contract between the former King of the Trolls, Erlinwar, and the Lady Lindell of the Tuatha de Danaan regarding the marriage of Sarah Williams, what say you, Goblin Queen?” Titania asked in a most perfunctory manner.

“Void.” Titania nodded to Benthee, and there was another scruffle of writing.

But Titania was far from finished. “With regard to the contract between Jareth, King of the Goblins and the Lady Lindell of the Tuatha de Danaan regarding the marriage of Sarah Williams, what say you, Goblin Queen?”

Sarah swallowed hard. She hadn’t been expecting to be put on the spot like this when she came to court today.

“Void,” she rasped as clearly as she could manage.

She heard a sharp inhalation of breath, and knew that she had hurt Jareth. There were several raised eyebrows in the courtroom, and Tieran was looking at her with shock in his eyes.

“Very well, Benthee,” Titania said, as she gestured to him to record Sarah’s decision.

One more to go, Sarah thought to herself. As soon as Titania began questioning her, she had known this was coming. Jareth had said he had figured out how to break the Faelium bond, but did she want to? She had hedged before, wanting to talk to Adin again. Now there was no time. They expected an answer. Could she delay, play for more time? The answer came to her then; whether it was her magic or her own mind, she wasn’t sure. But Titania was speaking again.

“With regard to the issue of the Faelium bond between Sarah Williams of the Above and Jareth, King of the Goblins, what say you, Goblin Queen?”

There can be no love without trust, Sarah’s mind whispered.

“Enforceable.”

Jareth looked at her in surprise as did several of the other members of the council. The simple fact was, when push came to shove, she trusted him—absolutely. Even if there was no defense to the Faelium, she would trust him to let her have privacy. In return, she would do the same for him.

However…. As Titania began to nod toward Benthee, Sarah interrupted.

“There is one caveat,” she said. When no one challenged her right to speak, she forged ahead. “I want a real proposal, and a handfasting, with bridesmaids,” she insisted.

Titania smiled. Several of the other members of the council outright snickered and Denneth laughed a hearty guffaw at the gumption of the Goblin Queen. He wondered idly what would have happened had his father contracted this young woman for marriage to him instead of his worthless brother. He looked at Jareth speculatively. Oh yes, he’d have given the pretty Fae a run for his money for this Queen.

“We have a demand before us,” Queen Titania intoned, an amused note coloring her voice. “What say you, Jareth, King of the Goblins?”

“Agreed,” Jareth stated, a wicked smile pulling at his lips. He was King of the Goblins, after all. He pictured Sprog cannonballing into the wedding cake and the rest of the goblins and their assorted chickens terrorizing the guests. Oh yes, this would be a handfasting never to be forgotten. It would be epic…legendary…throughout all of the thirteen kingdoms for all time.

Titania nodded to Benthee who dutifully recorded the decision. But, Titania wasn’t finished.

“At this time, the Court issues an arrest warrant for Lady Lindell of the House of Tuatha de Danaan, also known as Linda Williams of the Above, for witness tampering, for attempting to suborn perjury, and for willfully attempting to perpetrate fraud upon this court. The Court further orders an arrest warrant be issued for Erlinwar, former King of the Trolls, for witness tampering, for attempting to suborn perjury, attempted bribery of a witness, and for criminal assault and battery for threatening and subsequently perpetrating bodily harm upon the person of Lady Lindell. This concludes the Court’s business today. We are adjourned. This Court stands in recess.”

She struck her gavel and the members of the council began filing out, all but Jareth, who, when the other members had exited, leapt somewhat disrespectfully across the table to stand in front of Sarah. He grinned and offered his arm.

“Shall we go home?” he inquired.

They said goodbye to Tieran, and Jareth transported them to the castle.


	68. 68

Chapter 68

 

“Dinner in the conservatory, please, Meep,” Jareth called as he led Sarah down the corridor. “So, Precious, I’m curious about your decisions at Court today.”

Sarah had expected this.

“Well, the contracts with the Troll King and the Gypsy King, I think you kind of know why I said to void them.”

He nodded.

“The marriage contract between you and my mother, well, that was an arrangement between you and her. I wanted something between us, so I wanted to void that one.”

He nodded again understanding her reasoning now.

“But the Faelium. You weren’t ready to commit earlier; what changed your mind?” he asked as he seated her at the small dinner table.

Here she struggled, trying to find the right words to explain.

“While you were in a coma, I realized that I had never given anything to you, never given anything back.” He started to interrupt, but she held up her hand. “Just let me finish,” she insisted. “I’m not wealthy. I don’t have a kingdom or anything … tangible to offer. I didn’t even realize that I loved you until I healed you. And the Faelium bond kinda scares me. But, I do know that in order for there to be love, there has to be trust. I trust you, Jareth. Every single time I’ve put my trust in you, you’ve never let me down. So, I trust you to leave my private thoughts my own. That’s all I have to offer you, my love and my trust. Is it enough?” she asked, worry evident in her voice.

“More than,” he said softly, as he pulled her out of her chair and into his lap.

He kissed her then, a long, sweet kiss with only a touch of heat.

“So, Goblin Queen, when do you plan to propose to me?” he asked, his eyes wide and deceptively innocent.

“What?” Sarah sputtered. “I thought you were going to propose to me,” she insisted.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” he asked, a smirk quirking his lips.

“At court, you agreed to propose to me!”

“I most certainly did not,” he replied, eyes now sparkling with mischief.

Sarah replayed the conversation in her mind trying to remember exactly what had been said. She sighed when she remembered that she had only said that she wanted a proposal; she had not specified who the proposer and who the proposee would be.

“Besides,” he continued not missing a beat, “I’ve been the one carrying this relationship from the beginning.”

She looked at him, mouth open in shock.

“I made a contract for you, gave a substantial amount of my magical energy, in fact, for first dibs on you. It was I who made love to you. If you recall, you really didn’t seem to know what you were doing, Precious.”

“I was a virgin,” she sputtered.

“And I was the one who cast the Faelium bond,” he continued smoothly.

“I couldn’t cast it. I had no magic then,” she objected, “and you were certainly no virgin!” she exclaimed, remembering the requirements for the bond.

He “tsk’d” noisily and shrugged as if that were of little consequence. Oh she was riled now. He pulled her head to his shoulder before she could see the grin that graced his lips.

“Sarah,” he cajoled softly. He smiled even more when he realized she was pretending to sulk. He almost laughed then.

“What?” came the snippy retort.

He pushed open the Faelium bond then, hearing her gasp as he poured his love through the bond. She reciprocated, and he basked in the warm glow of her love, let it fill the empty, lonely, aching places inside of him.

“Will you handfast with me…fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave?”

Those words. She understood completely then. He had offered her this from the beginning. Fear me…love me…do as I say… Love, honor and obey…til death do us part. Ancient words of ritual from a time when women were little more than property. Even though it was no longer so, the words still remained, because that’s the way it was done.

Sarah closed her eyes and smiled softly.

A lifetime of this: teasing, love, laughter, games, fights, making up, abandoned and wished away children, crazy goblins, all with an arrogant, magical, vain, dangerous, loving, cruel, mischievous, generous, complicated Goblin King. What more could she want?

“Yes,” Sarah said simply as she snuggled deeper into Jareth’s embrace. This was much better than all of that on bended knee crap. “But no goblins at the ceremony.”

“Awwww, but Precious….”

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if you read and enjoyed this story, a few kind words would be much appreciated. It might even give me the impetus to write the sequel I've been contemplating for a while.


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